Make the Clock Reverse
by ginger0826
Summary: Spuffy. Post-Chosen turns into S4 AU. After dying a Champion, Spike got into heaven. The Powers That Be, unhappy with the slayer army idea, give Spike a choice: stay in heaven but The Master kills Buffy at 16, or be sent back to 1999 to keep Buffy from dying/being revived a 2nd time, thus preventing The First Evil from taking hold. What else can Spike make better this go-around?
1. Prologue

_Author's Note, which applies to this entire piece: All characters, quotes, plot points, references, etc. that are borrowed from source material belong to their original owners. The story as a whole is entirely my own, and just for the enjoyment of Buffyverse fans. Please excuse any author's liberties taken with source material. All of this is written for the fun and love of it._

 _This is dedicated to sweetprincipale, who penned the first fanfic I'd ever read and inspired me to write some of my own. If you haven't yet, go check out some of those amazing stories! (The "Uncontrollable" series is a personal favorite.)_

 **Prologue**

"In the beginning, before the time of man, great beings walked the earth. Untold power emanated from all quarters — the seeds of what would come to be known as good and evil. But the shadows stretched and became darkness, and the malevolent among us grew stronger. The Earth became a demon realm. Those of us who had the will to resist left this place, but we remained ever-watchful."

Spike didn't know how long he had been there. It seemed like he was floating in nothingness. He had a vague recollection of the pain of being seared inside-out, but it was a distant memory, one that he only used as a marker for the last time he was still occupying a body. Instead, he held onto the vision of Buffy, all of her beaming with the sunlight the amulet created, and those words he'd been waiting years to hear. He didn't think it likely she actually loved him, and even if she had he wasn't going to let her leave with that kind of burden, the guilt of letting a person she loved die. Girl got enough sodding guilt from her so-called friends. Maybe telling her she didn't mean it had convinced her, let her move on once she got the hell out of Sunnydale.

Something about that idea, and the fact that she'd gotten out safely, had brought him peace. He didn't know if he was in heaven or purgatory; truthfully, he was just shocked he hadn't ended up in a nasty hell dimension. It did feel a bit like she'd described heaven—warm and all that—but he was also on loop, a constant cycle between Buffy telling him she loved him and getting "Blitzkrieg Bop" stuck in his head.

Suddenly, he was interrupted—something he wasn't expecting. A girl appeared before him, pretty, tanned, young, with short brown hair. He felt like he should know her from somewhere, but with a hundred plus years of pretty girls to remember he was having trouble placing it. The girl snapped her fingers, shooting him an aggravated expression.

"Hello? Talking here."

"What?"

"Oh, God, do I have to start all over? I'm Cordelia. Hi."

Right. That'd be the one. "No offense, pet, but why're you here?"

"Why else?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "The freakin' Powers That Be wanted me to offer you a deal."

"Oh, for fuck's sake... Aren't the Powers That Bitch done messin' about with me? I've already died twice, you'd think they'd let me rest in peace at some point. Or if they're going to keep on, at least be upfront about it and send me to a proper hell dimension."

"Would you shut up? God, Angel was _not_ kidding about the you constantly running your mouth thing." Cordelia kept talking though Spike had tried interrupting again. "So 'cause you're the Champion and everything, the Powers are willing to let you hang out in heaven as a reward. But they're pissed at Buffy."

"What?" Spike laughed. "It not enough that she came back from the dead twice to do what needs doing?"

"They're not happy that she screwed up the whole Chosen One order whatever. It's not her fault mouth-to-mouth worked after The Master, but they weren't happy Willow did her Wicked Witch of Sunnydale act and brought her back again, and then making all those girls slayers? One way or another, they want things back under control."

"Their control, you mean." Spike tensed, feeling, for the first time in a long time, like he had a body again, not that he could move it. He didn't like the direction this was heading in, not at all. The girl had been through enough, and she didn't need any more help from more people screwing things up for her. "What's the deal? That they told you about?"

"Well, you can stay here, or you can return and prevent things from getting royally crappy like they did."

"And if I stay here? What are they gonna do to her?"

"Well, it'll take more power and stuff and a lot more is gonna change, but they'll make it so she never came back in the first place, that The Master just killed her. Which, trust me, if it's anything like what Xander's demon girlfriend showed me, has seriously horrendous consequences for just about everything. Unless, I guess, Faith stops being a skank-oid long enough to fix it, but..." Cordelia shrugged.

"So if sit on my ass up here in the clouds, Buffy dies at sixteen?"

"You got it."

That would mean—he never would've met her. He and Dru probably would've still be painting the streets red, without the great poof losing his soul and getting in the way. Lil' Bit never would've been born, very least not as a Summers woman...

"Bloody hell. Fine. What, they want me to go back and convince Red to do some kind of anti-slayer reversal spell? I'm sure her annoying bint of a girlfriend'll be real keen on that..."

"No. Before that. Buffy coming back the second time is what got everything all wonky to begin with. The First Evil comes back and everything goes to hell. Well, more to hell than usual. No, you need to make sure that she doesn't die a second time... Or if she does, that Willow won't bring her back."

"Oh, no trouble there at all," Spike grumbled. He suddenly felt the weight of his duster on his shoulders, like pieces of his existence coming back to him bit by bit. "Can I at least get a better idea of what I'm walking into, exactly?"

"Well, you'll have the soul instead of the chip, and your memories, I think." Coredlia's eyes clouded over white. She lifted a hand in Spike's direction, white light shining off of it. This time, her voice came echoed, several voices speaking through one visage. "Fix it, or we will."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Then Spike saw nothing at all as he felt himself falling, for so long he couldn't help but think of Glory's tower, until he hit the ground so hard that his legs buckled and his neck cricked with whiplash. He held his hands to his head, the same sort of physical aftermath of the chip telling him he was a bad doggie. He noticed he was surrounded on all sides by grass, and he wasn't bursting into flame so it was also nighttime. Looking up to the skies confirmed that it was, in fact, dark out. Reaching out with his heightened abilities, he could hear heartbeats all around him, and only then realized how badly he was starving. As his senses started coming back full-throttle, he recognized it as the UC Sunnydale campus. He'd only barely picked up her scent when he heard her voice:

"Thought that was gonna take longer."

Spike spun around, his duster whipping around his ankles as he did. Standing there, tilting her head at him, was Buffy. "Uh, me too," he said, the image of her still spinning a bit. "Musta got... turned around." Her eyes, the way she was looking at him... Okay, confused as hell and like he was a bloody monster, but also brighter than she'd been in years, maybe since before Glory. She didn't know what being torn out of heaven was like, hadn't been through Joyce's death, or...

"Hang... hang on, this—this is it. Wait, no, yes." He studied the place around him. Spike was certain that the tunnels into the Initiative were around here, vaguely remembered needing to find them. When was it? Before Glory, but was the Initiative around? The Powers had told him he'd have a soul instead of a chip. Was this after the chip?

"What are you talking about?" She stuck her hands on her hips, eyebrows raised as she waited for his answer.

"Oh, uh." He had to remember that this wasn't the Buffy who'd given him the bauble, or the one who'd said she'd let him kill Wood if they tried to kill Spike again. As far as Buffy knew, Spike wanted her dead. He swiped his hands over his slicked-back, platinum-blond hair. "Nothing, love." He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting up and taking a puff to calm his shaking hands before he spoke again. "Was, uh, lookin' for the butcher's. Got a bit peckish."

"Giles has blood in his fridge. I'm not buyin' it, Spike." Buffy grabbed him, rough, by the elbow, dragging him across campus.

"Careful, there, Slayer, you'll bruise the leather." He smirked down at her. Truth was, he never thought he'd see her again except in the one memory, and that would never be as vivid as the real, live woman.

Buffy scoffed at him. "Do you seriously think I care about your ratty old coat?" She took the cigarette from between Spike's lips and stomped it in half on the ground under her.

"Oi!"

"You'll deal. Now let's go. I already have enough trouble dealing with Mopey Mood Swings Wills tonight. I don't need to listen to your complaining about a stupid cigarette."

"Mood swings..." Spike muttered to himself. Something about this night was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Something about... Red did something while they'd had him chained, and... He hoped that his brain would begin to function again after the time travel thing wore away.

"Yes, mood swings. Humans have those." Buffy glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Vamps do, too."

What could he ask to orient himself? _What year is it?_ would come off as him being a nutter like Dru or just a general pain in the arse. "Where's Niblet? At home?"

"Could you please not talk about Wills like she's your next meal, you freak?" They were almost on the edge of campus, and something clicked into place for Spike, let him know that they were heading to Giles' flat. "It's bad enough I let you live after you tried to eat her."

So that's what this was. No Dawn. Willow moping. He'd just tried to feed on Red, recently. And the chip... Oh God. This was the night that... He had to warn Buffy, get her to stop Willow before the spell. "About her, Buffy, I..."

"Buffy? Since when it is not 'Oh, Slayer this' and 'Nice work, love,' that, huh?" she demanded, her attempts at an English accent painful.

"Look, there's something you should know..."

"Save it." She pulled a very sudden stake from her tan raincoat, keeping it in his line of vision as they continued down the sidewalk. At the rate she was yanking him, they had to be at least halfway to the old man's flat. He had to admit, he didn't really ever look at Rupert the same way after he'd teamed up with Wood to assassinate him. "The next ten minutes are Buffy's cone of silence time. I need to not be hearing any stupid vampires whining about being treated unfairly. One more peep before I see Giles, and I swear I will dust you and make it all so much simpler."

Spike growled and threw his head back. Didn't do much good to come all the way back here to save the girl (again) only to get himself dusted and have her last couple of years on the planet erased along with him. So he did as she'd demanded until they arrived at their destination.


	3. Chapter 2

_Thanks to everyone for the favorites, follows, and reviews! This one goes out to gabelou1991, Abbie, and Katie. Hope you guys enjoy!_

 **Chapter 2**

"Summers, you are completely off your bird."

"Spike, I've had it up to here," Buffy said as she pushed him through the front door. "Why in the hell would I take you to go see Willow?"

"Well, it's not like I can bite her, is it? She's about to—" He bit his lip, grimacing. He couldn't bloody well tell her that he knew about something that hadn't happened yet. Knowing her tragic deductive skills, she'd think he'd been talking to Dru and she'd told him a vision or something stupid like that. And Buffy, no matter the year, was way too dust-happy for his liking.

"Hello?" Buffy snapped her fingers in front of him. "Earth to Spike?" It eerily mirrored the girl who'd sent him back here. Might've meant he should start paying more attention, he supposed. The slayer threw her arms up. "God, it's like I'm not even here. Giles?" she called into the flat. The slayer grabbed the nearest chair, took Spike by the shoulder, and forced him to sit in it. "Move an inch and so help me, I'll stake you."

"Oh, give it up." Spike slouched, letting his legs spread. He noticed Buffy eyeing him up, though she played it off by glaring at him. "You're not going to stake me, Slayer. In fact, in a minute you're going to be acting..." He raised his eyebrows. "Well, let's just say not very like yourself."

She retreated a step away from him, gripping tighter onto the stake in her hand. "What did you do to me?"

"Well, this should be fun," he said, playing with the heavy black ring on his finger. He knew what would come next, and he would probably be able to do sod all to resist.

"Giles!" the slayer shouted again, eyes glued to Spike.

"Just a minute," he called back, his voice soft and distracted.

Spike held up five fingers, then four, three... He could feel the spell taking hold, the giddy, poncey soul of his lighting up just looking at her. But who was he kidding? That had been his reaction when he saw her on campus, too. Except that now all he wanted to do was kneel before her, kiss her, hold her in his arms—desires he'd trained himself to bury deep down came rushing to the surface.

xxxxx

Buffy couldn't remember when she'd taken the seat or Spike had vacated it, and then he was kneeling in front of her and smiling and she was wearing his ring on her finger. It had all been such a blur, and now she was heating up his mug of blood in the microwave. It had squicked her out before, but suddenly she didn't mind so much. She took the mug out and over to Spike in the armchair, curling up in his lap when he took it. She'd just been overwhelmed, suddenly, by this sense that Spike would take care of her no matter what, and the way that he looked at her, like no one else in the world mattered... An hour ago, she'd wanted to give him a ten second head start before she chased him down, pounced him, and turned him into itty-bitty bits of Spike dust. Now she wouldn't mind a bit of chasing, pouncing...

She leaned in and kissed him, teasing her tongue against his lips. Buffy could feel him smiling against her, and with a slight roll of her hips wished that Giles had gone out to the magic shop or the grocery store or pretty much anywhere else for something, just to have fifteen minutes alone.

"What do you think about Wind Beneath My Wings?" she whispered, nuzzling his ear. Something in her demon-sensing tinglies urged her _Vampire. Bad. Stake. Kill. Run away._ But she'd learned to get over that instinct with Angel; she could definitely learn to get past it with Spike. And then he laughed at her.

"You're joking, right?"

"It's heartfelt!" she protested, sticking out her lower lip. Buffy was aware, somewhere in the periphery, that Giles had sat down across from them. Spike leaned forward, catching her lip between his teeth for just a moment as he tightened his hand on her hip.

"Buffy, do you know where else Willow might be? I really need to reach her." Giles leaned back against the couch, rubbing at his eyes.

"Red. Right." Spike cleared his throat, wrapping his arms around Buffy's waist. "That's what I needed to say. This is her spell."

"What?" Buffy turned to him, incredulous. "You know, if we're going to be married you can't just accuse my friends of things all willy-nilly. Especially not my Maid of Honor. And what spell?"

"Why would we believe anything that you had to say, Spike?" Giles added. "You've hardly been forthcoming with information thus far."

Buffy, looking from one man to the other, was torn between agreeing with Giles and defending Spike. She didn't get the chance to do either, though, because Spike was speaking again. She watched the way his eyes lit up when he talked, wondered why she hadn't taken notice before. He'd been talking for a while before she'd remembered that she should probably pay attention to the actual words. Her brain had just decided to make with the unhelpfulness today.

"But trust me, Will did this. You can't see, right, Rupes?"

"What?" Buffy tilted her head. "Giles can see just fine. Well, except that he needs those little glasses and..." She turned to Giles. "Giles, you don't have your glasses."

"How would you know any of this?" Giles demanded, staring off at a wall.

"A little Fyarl demon told me. He heard it while he was gettin' his nails done at the salon. What does it matter? Sweetheart." Spike rubbed the side of Buffy's hip. "Why don't you see if she's with the boy?" Buffy opened her mouth to ask why, but he stopped her with a deep kiss, his tongue against hers and his cold hand on her cheek making her moan just a little. Then he pulled away. "Give him a call, hmm?"

"Fine." Buffy threw her hands up in the air, standing and starting towards Giles' phone in the kitchen. "But this seems like a whole lotta nothin' to be worrying about if you ask me. Giles needs a hospital, not a spell."

Buffy had caught Xander on the phone before Willow left. She convinced them both to come to Giles' apartment, promising them big news when they got in. Buffy wondered if Spike would be okay with Xander as the Best Man. Sure, they hated each other, but pretty much all the guys Spike knew had to be dead by now, right? It wasn't like a slayer would have a Chaos Demon in the bridal party. Even if the Maid of Honor was a witch... and the groom was majorly sun-allergic... Besides the point.

While they were waiting anyway, Buffy returned to Spike's lap, running her fingers through his hair. She was going to have to ask what kind of product he used, 'cause it looked super slicked-back, but it was so soft, all she could do was sit there keeping her fingers busy. She was vaguely aware that Spike was flipping through a book, but didn't really pay much attention until he started speaking.

"Here we are. Reversal spell. Simple as pie. I'm sure Red can handle it."

"She did re-soul Angel," Buffy agreed, her finger wandering down to trace Spike's ear. "I'm sure she can—" Buffy found herself unceremoniously booted from Spike's lap as he snapped to his feet. "Hey!"

"That..." Spike balled his fists up, his arms shaking "Why in all the women in all the world can I not find one who doesn't want to talk constantly about the Great Forehead?"

"What, and you're not going to be thinking of your precious Drusilla when... you're making... sweet love to me..." Buffy couldn't stay mad at him for more than a minute which, in and of itself, was wig-worthy. He grabbed her hands and pulled her close, his lips finding hers again, just enough push-back in their kissing to balance her. She didn't have to hold back, try desperately to be normal like she had with Parker. As Spike leaned in even closer, she felt his hardness against her and her entire body shuddered. Just then, the front door of the apartment swung open.

"Board up the windows, and barricade the doors!" Xander shouted as he burst in with Willow.

"What's going on?" Giles demanded.

"Demons," Wills said. "They keep coming and coming! I zapped one with a spell." She smiled from ear to ear, tongue caught between her teeth.

Buffy clasped her hand in Spike's. "Honey, where's that spell you wanted to show her?"

"Right," Spike said, holding tighter onto her hand. He nodded toward the armchair they'd been jointly occupying only a few minutes earlier. "Page three hundred and ninety-four. Reversal spell. That should get rid of 'em right quick."

"Reversal spell?" Willow's eyebrows scrunched up. "And what's with the snuggly wugglies?" She pointed to their joined hands.

"Giles is blind," Buffy said, ignoring the snuggly wugglies part. "Spike came up with the totally brilliant idea that you could undo any magic that might've caused it."

"You're using brilliant... in the sarcastic way, right, Buff?" Xander said, expression one of abject horror. "As in dumb?" He leaned closer to Willow, still staring at Buffy. "Gotta be a spell. Or nightmare. Is this like that nightmare-coming-to-life thing again?"

"Spike and Buffy together is your worst nightmare?" Willow asked.

"That and mountain-sized mayor snakes."

"Well... Okay, that's reasonable."

Giles, an empty glass in hand, headed back toward the kitchen. "S'alright. I have more Scotch."

"I know witchcraft when I see it," Spike said. "Rupes here is suddenly without the gift of sight. The whelp is a demon magnet." He looked pointedly at Xander, willing something that Buffy didn't understand.

Xand seemed to, though, because he turned to Willow almost immediately. "What sort of witchy badness did you work on me?"

"I—you? Nothing! I only did the one little spell to make..." Willow played with her fingertips, staring down guiltily. "I wanted to make the pain go away. From Oz."

Suddenly, something crashed through one of the windows. Spike and Buffy ducked into crouches, prone to attack whatever was intruding. Xander pulled Willow off to the side. A huge, horned thing with a serious case of gray lumpies stalked them. When it took a swing at Buffy, she swerved to the side. Then she grabbed it by the shoulders and flung it toward the couch, where Spike decked it, knocking it neatly to the floor for all of two seconds. Another demon, this one pink, barged in through the hole that the first had left.

"Oh, bloody fantastic!" Spike shouted. His demon had him lifted by the collar of his coat. "This is Thanksgiving all over again."

The demon flung Spike, and when Spike stood again he was in game face. He let out a roar, which caused the pink demon to look over. This gave Buffy ample opportunity to grab the demon around the neck. Rather than it hurting the demon at all, though, the thing just decided to dance around with Buffy hanging like a rag doll from its back.

"Slayer?"

From the little blurs Buffy could see, the gray demon went down like a sack of potatoes. She started kicking at the pink demon, her nails digging into its neck. With a black blur, the demon was on the ground. Spike grabbed Buffy's hand, pulling her toward the couch.

"Red? Spell'd be good right about now!"

As Willow began chanting, Spike handed Buffy one of Giles' axes, nodding toward the demon who was starting to stand again. Another demon stormed in, but Buffy left it for Spike as she took one good swing of the axe. The pink demon's head rolled away like ice cream off a cone—and now she'd ruined ice cream for herself for forever. The thing, thankfully turned to dust as Wills' chanting stopped. Buffy spun, saw Spike trying to keep the third demon at bay. "Corner pocket, pet!" he shouted, shoving the demon away. Buffy drove the axe into the demon's back and it collapsed. She and Spike locked eyes just as the sound of thunder crashed.

"Oh God." Buffy's eyes widened. She pressed her hand to her lips, remembering how passionately her and Spike had kissed, having felt his... him... against her, how that'd given her a whole different set of tinglies.

"I hate magic," Spike growled. "I'll get out of your hair."

"Uh, Spike? You're not going anywhere." Buffy folded her arms across her chest, partially for the tough look and partially because she felt way, way too exposed right now. "Except maybe the bathtub."

"Right." He shook his head, and Buffy wondered if Willow's spell had killed his last couple of brain cells the years of bleach had left behind. What the hell was he thinking? "I'm gonna go have a smoke out front. And so help me, if you tell me I can't I _will_ tell them about the first dance suggestion."

"No one's stopping you." Buffy turned to Willow, Xander, and Giles, all curious and perplexed with their wide eyes and gaping mouths. "What? It was the spell. Shut up, Spike."

When Buffy looked back, Spike had left the apartment.

"Whoops," Willow said.

"Was Spike fighting?" Giles asked, rubbing at his eyes. "I thought the chip..."

"I am so not with the book smarts," Buffy said, hands held up. "I just work here."

"The spell?" Xand offered, scratching the back of his head. "Maybe it let him... I dunno."

"No, I finished the reversal spell and he was still fighting 'em."

"Well, so long as it's only demons he can fight, right?" Buffy said. Why would he keep helping them if the warm and fuzzy feelings from the spell had faded? That vamp was every kind of confusing.

xxxxx

Spike took another shaky drag on his cigarette. The Powers could bugger off. They wanted him back in the game, fine. He never could refuse helping a Summers woman. And he was all for sparing the girl as much pain as he could. But why bring him back right then? Why let him see for a second time the kind of life he'd never get to share with Buffy? Why...

Unless there was a chance. That thought made his hand shake even harder on the next puff of nicotine.

"Spike!" He jumped so hard that he burned himself with the cig. He let it drop to the ground, sucking on the singed skin. "So help me God, get in here in the next five seconds or I'm bringing out the axe."

Never piss off a Summers woman with an axe, he thought, grinning to himself.


	4. Chapter 3

_Okay, so I'm going to try my hand at updating this story with a new chapter daily and see how you all like that pacing. I apologize that the reviews are delaying and not posting immediately, but thank you to each and every one of you taking the time to do so, and to favorite/follow this piece!_

 _This chapter is dedicated to RKF22, Cloongarvin, momnesia, DeAmonQuEen, and Louis Castiel Williams._

 _This starts us on an episode re-write of one of the most universally beloved pieces of the Buffy universe so, ya know, no pressure. I hope you continue to enjoy it! I'm really excited to share it with all of you. :)_

 **Chapter 3**

"Buffy. Summers."

As if there were ever any other Buffy in the class. She stood, adjusting her long skirt, and walked to the front of the room.

"Trying to be a normal girl again," Professor Walsh said.

"What?"

"Lay back on the desk, please."

Buffy didn't particularly want to, not with the whole class staring at her like that, but she did. She propped herself on her elbows, her trouble a-foot tinglies vaguely setting off. But then Riley was approaching her, sweet and totally human, and she relaxed. She needed to get out more, do non-Slayer things so she didn't think everything was a trap. He kissed her, a hand on her hip, and it was all tender, chaste. Buffy hated her mind for wandering to Spike kisses, since that was the last thing she should be thinking of.

She decided to enjoy the moment, resting a hand to Riley's chest. But her fingertips snapped like she'd stuck them in a light socket. When he pulled away, Buffy looked first to Riley's chest, a big silver circle glowing in the middle.

"It's regulation," he assured her. His voice was so calm that it encouraged her to look up.

Staring back at her was Riley, buried under vampire lumpies and cat-like golden eyes. She reached up and ran her fingers over his forehead, then brushed aside some of his hair. Buffy could swear she could hear his heartbeat. "You tin soldiers are all about duty, huh?" When he bowed his head, he vanished.

"Even for a dream, this is majorly weird," Buffy muttered to herself. Except, she noticed, she wasn't alone. The cigarette smell was what gave away his identity before she even hopped off the table and turned around to face him. "William the Bloody."

Spike laughed, his blue eyes crinkling. "Such formalities, Ms. Summers." His accent was slightly off—he sounded more like Giles for a minute there than himself. Then he returned to his usual self. "I'd love to pick up where we left off, pet, but there's something you need to see first." He spun, his long black coat whooshing up behind him, and he was gone. His voice continued, as though he were calling back to her. "Gotta find a way to tell you without getting all dusty, yeah?"

"Fortune favors the brave," Buffy said. She would've given anything for a stake. And a jacket—it was suddenly freezing. She could see her breath puffing in the air. A little girl, blond with a red dress, who might've been Buffy around age twelve, stood singing at the end of the hall, holding a box.

"...Gentlemen are coming home. Lookin' in windows, knockin' on doors. They need to take seven and they might take yours."

The box was wooden, with black triangle markings.

"Can't call to Mom, can't say a word. You wanna die screamin' but you won't be heard."

Buffy felt a hand reach for her shoulder, glanced at the chipped black nail polish before she woke up, with a start, in her seat in class. This was why Buffy and school were non-mixy things.

"So were you dreaming?" Willow asked next to her. She grinned as she packed up all her books.

"Yeah. Super creepy one, too."

The witch and the Slayer stood and headed for the front of the classroom, then out into the hall.

"Like, like vampire stuff or losing your voice before singing opera on stage kinda stuff?"

Suddenly, Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around, instinctively grabbing the wrist attached to it and holding on so tight that a sneeze would've broken it. Then she was looking up at Riley. She released him immediately. "Sorry!" Good ol' Buffy, she thought to herself. Maybe Cordy was right; maybe she'd never stop being a freak.

"That's alright," he said, flashing that nice, normal, I'm-not-a-freak-like-you smile. "I mean, when you're talking about singing opera, I should know not to intrude."

"Public humiliation is nothing to joke about." Wills pouted and a raised eyebrow.

"Sure, of course not. Hey, um, Buffy, did you want to grab some coffee? Professor Walsh isn't teaching another class until three."

Buffy glanced at Willow, who gave her very definite "Go for it" eye signals. Riley misread them.

"Oh, and Willow, you can come, too. If you'd been planning on... hanging out with... Buffy."

"No, it's—" Willow started. Buffy interrupted her.

"We actually had a bit of a spa day planned," she said, linking her arm in Wills'. "Rain check?"

Riley nodded. "Definitely. I'll call or, uh, see you in class?"

Once he'd walked in the opposite direction and turned the corner, Buffy began leading Willow to the front door of the building.

"So, uh, we hadn't planned on a girly fun day, had we?" Willow chewed on her lip. "'Cause, uh, if we had, you kinda forgot to tell me."

"Well, we can grab some coffee and donuts on the way to Giles'. I want to ask him about the dreamy strangeness."

"You think it's a Slayer dream?"

"I dunno. But I figure he's gonna need something to do. He's been stuck in the apartment with Spike all day." Buffy didn't know if she could figure out a way to avoid mentioning he'd been in her dream. Maybe she could play it off as having all been Riley? Or adding in Angel instead. That'd piss Spike off and he wouldn't get all smug and... But then they'd want to call Angel, and Buffy didn't want any of that.

xxxxx

"Am I only an orgasm friend to you, Xander Harris?"

"Ahn, could we not—"

"No, I want to know. Now. It's not fair, and I want you to tell me."

"Can I help you two?" Giles groaned, the arm of his glasses propped between his fingers as he mulled over some dusty old antiquity or another. "Please, anything I can do to transfer this fight to somewhere that is not here."

Spike, laying out on the couch, scribbled again in the little notebook he'd nicked from the watcher. It'd had two pages filled up with sketches of plant life and, interesting though that wasn't, he needed the pen and paper. _Valentine's? Feb. '01. Dru._ Piecing together the last three or four years was just about impossible, and hell if he knew what might or might not change now that he was all soulful and had 20/20 hindsight. There was the Initiative, Glory, making sure that Dawn was born (that still made his brain hurt), keeping Red from going over the deep end, keeping Buffy from jumping on the tower, the matter of Joyce...

"What?" Xander and Anya shrieked.

Spike lifted his head. "What?"

"Yes, well, Quentin is sending someone from the Council and, though I would much enjoy seeing Spike meet his inevitable demise, if we plan on keeping him alive for more information on the commandos, we need to move him until they've left."

"Well, when are they coming?"

"Some time in the next week. He wouldn't give me specifics."

"G-man, I don't get it," the boy said, scowling with his hands moving wildly in the air as he spoke. "I thought the Buffster told them to go get stuffy with themselves."

A smile flickered across Giles' face for a moment. "Yes, well, they still need to determine whether or not my visa gets renewed and..."

"Wait a minute." Spike shoved the notebook into the pocket of his jeans, scrambling to his feet. "You're not stickin' me with them!"

"Would you _like_ to be handed over to the council? That would make my obtaining a visa much, much simpler." The darkness in Giles' eyes reminded him of the way he'd looked at him whenever Buffy took him on a mission against The First. Spike was not in the fan club of that expression.

"I can get a cozy crypt with a view," Spike pouted. "I'm not a helpless kitten, you know. I can live on my own."

"And let you kill innocents?" Xander shook his head. "No. Un-uh. No helpless snacks for you, Dead Boy."

"Well I'm not watchin' you and Demon Girl shag for a week!"

"Xander has great stamina, but we do take frequent breaks for Fruit Roll-ups."

"Ahn!" the boy shouted, shooting a look her way that—well, for a pathetic human probably passed as semi-threatening.

"Someone has to take him," Giles said. The front door of the apartment opened.

"Giles, I—" Buffy stopped in her tracks, Red on her heels. "And everyone else. Hi." She held two full cardboard takeaway cup carriers, and Willow held a box of donuts.

"Ooh, do you have those little jelly-filled ones?" Spike asked, lifting his chin and sniffing.

Buffy's face scrunched up, the way it had when she'd fed him blood from a mug in the tub. "Ew, Spike."

"Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?" Anya looked from Buffy to the boy. "Why uh-oh? What—Is this some human symbol of bad news?"

"Donuts. Coffee. We're being roped into research."

"What if we agree to take Spike? Can we get out of it then?"

"Buffy, what's the matter?" Giles asked, fingers pressed to his temple.

"She, uh, fell asleep in class."

"I... Should I even bother trying to lecture you?"

The old man rubbed his face, the whole lot of them wearing on his nerves. Spike supposed he had a lot to do with that. Good. Served him right. Never got to properly thank him for his near-death experience. It'd broken Buffy's heart—he could see it just the way she'd looked at Giles in those final days. Not that she probably cared about Spike in particular; had to be the betrayal bit. And even though technically Giles hadn't done that yet, didn't mean Spike wouldn't take the opportunity to be a right wanker. Just when he'd considered whining about the Wheat-a-bix being out again, Buffy started talking.

"Wait. Who's taking Spike?"

"Well, Giles wants us to take him because blah blah blah council." Anya rolled her eyes and huffed. "I need to talk with Xander about whether or not he just wants me as an orgasm friend or if I'm really his girlfriend."

"Ew!" Buffy shrieked. She shoved the drinks onto a couple of piles of books on Giles' desk.

"Why do you even speak?" Willow said, donut box finding its way to the desk as well.

"I'm standin' right here," Spike grumbled.

"Nobody asked you," Xander snapped.

"The dream, Buffy?" Giles stood, heading to the kitchen. At this rate, the lot of them was going to make an alcoholic out of him yet.

"If you're having a bit of bourbon with your cuppa, I want in," Spike called. He headed for the donut box, flicking it open.

"Hey! The undead do not get sugary goodness around here!" Xander griped. "Certainly not before the Xand man."

Spike shrugged, smirking and pilfering a Boston Creme. "Evil," he said, taking a huge chunk out of the thing.

"Guys, focus?" Willow took a seat at Giles' desk, pulling her laptop from her backpack and typing away on it. "Okay, Buffy. Now, details. What did you see?"

"Oh, um..." She grabbed one of the foamy iced coffee things and started sipping. "Uh, right now? Why don't we, like, wait until Xand and Anya take Spike away?"

"I'm not goin' with them, love." Spike inhaled the last of the donut. "I promise I won't eat anyone. I'm all full anyway." His nose twitched. The scent was barely there, and from so long ago... But it was distinctive anyway. Finn had been around her. Spike growled involuntarily, remembering the last time Finn had seen Buffy, the way he'd shamed her, and after she'd caught him selling his blood for the bite around town, too.

"Might be more convincing without the growling," Willow said, not even looking up. "Buffy, you were so freaked about it, might as well start."

"Okay." She stopped sipping on her drink, instead just chewing on the straw. That couldn't have been good. Spike's face hardened over as he studied her, trying to suss out what the problem was. He found himself, for the first time, wishing that he'd paid more attention to the lot of them before Dawn came around and they started fighting Glory. Spike flopped back onto the couch just as the Slayer started to pace.

"Okay. So in this dream... Riley and I were making out in class. Like, in front of the class. The whole class. 'Cause Professor Walsh told him to."

Spike tried to keep himself under control. He never was great with jealousy.

"You sure this wasn't just a day dream?" Willow said, eyes big as she looked to her friend.

"Sounds like a good start to a dream to me," Anya sighed.

"Generally my day dreams don't involve creepy nursery rhymes and demons." Buffy looked pointedly at Spike, but he hadn't said anything to incur her wrath, so mostly he just stared at her, slack-jawed.

"What're you lookin' at me for? I didn't do anything."

"Riley... changed. He was a vampire when we stopped kissing."

"Like Angel?" Willow piped up, still furiously typing away.

"Angel didn't have a glowy thing in his chest, though. And then Spike was insisting that I needed to see something, something he didn't want to show me 'cause he was afraid of getting dusty."

"You _are_ stake-happy, pet," Spike muttered, but he took the notebook out again. Maybe she'd seen something that would happen about a year from now. When Spike had come to her room about Finn and his fanged friends, didn't he tell her something like that? That he couldn't tell her, he'd have to show her? And bugger it, it was the same thing now. She'd think he was more of a lunatic than Dru on a full moon if he told her half of what he knew was—might be?—about to come.

"Then there was this little girl and she was singing something. And this box with, um, black triangles?"

"What was she singing?" Giles called from the other room.

"Something about a gentleman, and taking seven. And there was this one line... Can't call to Mom, can't say a word... shoot, I can't remember the whole thing."

"Are you sure it wasn't just a dream?" Giles returned to the room, sipping on some tea. Spike noticed he didn't have a second cup for him.

"Definite Slayer vibes." Buffy sat on the edge of the desk, swinging her legs. "You ever heard of that?"

"I've heard of demons that make people sing," Spike said. "Never caught the name of 'em, but they gotta be summoned. So unless any of you lot've been messing with talismans at the magic shop..."

Xander touched his finger to his nose, and Willow quickly followed suit. "Not it."

"Spike, do you know what kind of demon this might be?" Giles was curious now, studying him.

He shrugged. "I might. At least'll know someone who does. We could go to Willy's, ask around. I still have a couple of buddies there, I think."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Buffy's legs came to a complete halt. "What's this 'we' stuff?"

"I dunno. Maybe the fact that you have a man on the inside?"

Buffy's jaw tightened. "You're not a man."

"Figure of speech, love."

"Buffy, he could be quite helpful, in this case at least..." Giles still eyed Spike skeptically.

"And if I were capable of doing anything, don't you think your watcher'd already be dead? I mean, the man is a magnet for concussions."

"No magnets!" Willow jumped up straight in her seat. "No talking about concussion magnets, or demon magnets, or..." She glanced around at everyone in the room, shrinking in her seat. "Maybe I should bake some more cookies."

"Buffy, I can research in my texts, but if this gentleman demon is already in town, perhaps you could patrol and ask around? With... with Spike?"

"And what, Giles? You want me to take him back to the dorm and tie him up for the night?"

"Yes please," Anya said. "What? Better than him being with Xander."

"Since when is she involved in Scooby meetings again?" Willow demanded. "How many apocalypses has she even been through, anyway?"

"Personally had a hand in, only two. Witnessed? Seventeen." The room fell silent. "What?"

"Spike's not a Scooby anyway," Xander added. "He's not even really welcome here."

Buffy groaned, rolling her neck. "Fine! I'll take Spike. But he even makes a move I don't like, I'm staking him."

"Can we grab a pint of O-pos while we're at Willy's?"

Buffy covered her face in her hands.


	5. Chapter 4

_This one is dedicated to Cloongarvin, RKF22, gabelou1991, and shadow for the reviews, though I appreciate all of you who are taking the time to read this!_

 _If I'm updating too frequently, please just let me know. If no one says I am, then I'll do my level best to continue the daily chapter releases. :)_

 **Chapter 4**

"I think you were just looking for an excuse to fight."

"Well, yeah," Spike said. He was vamped out, beating the crap out of some fledgling vampire's face.

Buffy staked her own vamp before turning back to him. "It might be hard for him to speak if you don't lay up on the facial region, Spike."

"Right." Spike grabbed the guy by the collar, one-handed. "So tell me, gentleman. Ever heard of him? Got a pretty little jewelry box made o' wood?"

"What, man? I don't..."

Spike snapped the vampire's neck all the way around, and by the time the creature left his hands it was dust. "See? Useless."

"Then why did we bother with the patrolling?" Buffy returned her stake to the waistband of her skirt, using the bottom of her halter top to cover it up. "I should've just left you with Giles." She started back toward the dorm, Spike keeping pace behind her.

"So the Wanker's Council can leave me out to tan in the old man's garden? N'thanks, pet."

"I'm not letting you stay with us."

"I'm not staying in the whelp's basement." His face shifted, the lumpies back to smooth lines and the yellow eyes back to deep blue. "It's either you and Wills or a crypt o' m'own."

"God, this is turning into the worst day ever."

Spike opened his mouth, then closed it, chewing on one of his chipped black nails instead.

"What?"

"What's the rhyme again? What you remember?"

Buffy had been humming it all day, trying to piece it back together. It was catchy, in a creepy kids in a horror movie kinda way. She half sang it back again, her voice shaking. If anyone but Spike were around on campus at this time of night, she might have lacked the courage to do it: "...Gentlemen are coming home. Um, something something something... They need to take seven and they might take yours. Can't call... Crap. Can't call Mom, can't... uh, you won't be heard?" She shook her head as Stevenson Hall came into view. Willow was walking inside with a girl next to her, the pair of them laughing.

"Wills!" Buffy shouted.

The pair turned and Willow approached. The girl, now on Willow's left, wasn't exactly making eye contact. Her hair was bleached but less yellow than Spike's, and dark roots showed through. She smiled at the ground, holding some books to her chest.

"Buffy! Um, this is Tara. She's from my Wicca group."

"Hi," Buffy said, and Tara offered a soft wave back. Talk about mega shy.

"And, uh..." Willow waved dramatically in Spike's general direction. "Spike."

Tara looked up now, locking eyes with him. Buffy looked Spike over. He'd gone rigid, seemed supremely uncomfortable the longer Tara looked at him.

"Is he a... a vampire?" Tara finally asked.

"I—" Buffy was at a loss for words.

"Yeah, Earth Mother. Vampire." Something in Spike's voice emphasized that last word, like he was trying to convince her or something.

"Willow, you told her about vampires?"

"Oh, she knew." Willow's face lit up, her bright red hair bouncing around as she spoke. She was more excited than she'd seemed in weeks. "Her mom was a witch, too. She's the only other one in the group who doesn't think spells are—" Here, Wills used air quotes. "—'un-empowering' or part of the patriarchy or whatever hooey those Wanna-Blessed-Bes think."

"Hooey?" Spike inhaled sharply. "Strong words from the little witch, eh?" He smiled, gently, at Tara.

"Buffy I—" Spike and Tara both started at the same time. Tara looked to the ground immediately.

The bells tolled in the distance. All four of their heads snapped up at once. White wispy... somethings... were floating around the air. Buffy didn't have to look over to know that Spike had vamped again—her vampire senses were going all wacky. She reached for the stake she'd tucked away. Next to her, Spike licked at his fangs, his eyes glowing more intense amber as he watched the skies. Willow and Tara, seeming to think they weren't being watched, clasped hands. Buffy noticed a pink spark of magic between them.

"Oh bugger," Spike said.

Suddenly white smoke came out of each of their mouths, floating toward the others in the air, all speeding way away from campus.

When Buffy opened her mouth, she meant to say "uh." She could feel her vocal chords moving, but couldn't hear anything. She was the Slayer. The Slayer couldn't be deaf. What was she going to do if she couldn't hear a demon sneaking up on her or something? Spike's jaw had locked and he was only shaking his head.

Buffy turned to the other two. Willow opened her mouth, and from what Buffy could read of her lips either said "That was weird" or "I want beer." Again, nothing with the noises. But this time, Willow held a hand to her throat. She opened her mouth like she was screaming, but nothing. Both of them turned to Tara, whose lips moved so timidly Buffy couldn't even read them.

Spike lifted a garbage can and flung it about ten feet. It crashed against the nearest tree. They definitely heard the screechy sounds. A couple of people came to the windows of the dorms, too, and looked out.

Buffy touched her ears, gave thumbs-up, then touched her throat, shaking her head. Spike and Tara nodded. It wasn't that sound was broken. Their voices were broken. If Willow could've thought so hard that she shot lasers into the ground with her eyes, that power would've manifested right about them.

Buffy pushed into the dorm, looking around. It looked like they'd interrupted a party, and music was still playing. But everyone's lips were moving and no one was making with the speech. So it wasn't just Scoobies or people who happened to be with Scoobies. Probably not a spell aimed at them then? She didn't know. Wills was the one who was good with all the witchy stuff.

Willow pointed up toward the ceiling, Buffy nodded, and Spike and Tara followed them up the staircase. They all packed into Buffy and Willow's room. At first, Buffy was shocked that Spike could come in, then she remembered that mopey Willow had extended an accidental invite. Which was probably good, since they couldn't exactly extend an invite at the moment. Even with the weird voice thing going on, Buffy noticed that Willow didn't seem very mopey right now.

Spike snapped his fingers, pointing to their room phone. Buffy's face scrunched up. How brain dead could one vampire be? He stamped his foot. Willow raised a finger, grabbing the white board with her to-do list from her desk. Tara took the rag that'd been next to it and wiped it down. They handed it to Spike, who popped the marker off and scribbled with his left hand.

CAN'T CALL TO MUM.

Buffy only tilted her head. He rubbed the message away with the sleeve of his coat, scribbling again.

JOYCE.

"Mom," Buffy mouthed. He nodded. Just when panic started to set in, Willow tapped her on the shoulder and shook her head. She yanked the board away from Spike.

AUNT ARLENE?

Good. Buffy breathed. She'd forgotten her mom wasn't in Sunnydale at the moment. One less thing to worry about, at least.

Tara's lips twisted up. Willow cleaned up the white board and handed it to her. Tara wrote on it, the letters tiny and neat.

SPELL?

Spike glared at Willow, but she shook her head, hands held up defensively. Tara's shoulders slumped as she wrote again.

TO FIND SOURCE?

Willow touched her nose, nodding vigorously. Buffy took the board, cleaning it.

YOU GO FIND SPELLS. DEMON? GENTLEMAN. TOMORROW, GILES AT SUNRISE?

Willow nodded, looking to Tara, who smiled just slightly. Buffy handed the board and marker back to them. Grabbing a couple of books and crystals that she stuffed into her bag, Willow was out the door, Tara close behind her. Buffy spun around, eyes harsh as she looked at Spike.

"What're we gonna do?" he mouthed.

Buffy reached for the weapons chest under her bed, digging out a broadsword Giles had given her one Christmas and a sturdy axe. She handed the sword to Spike, who lit up, bouncing on his feet.

xxxxx

They'd spent the last couple of hours before sunrise roaming campus and then the streets, looking for any manner of bad guy that might be about. One bloke in a straitjacket had wandered in front of them, a disfigured little hobbit of a thing, and when it did nothing but stare up at them swinging its arms until it tried to pin the Slayer down, she sliced and diced him quicker than you could say fruitcake.

Right before the sun rose, they ended up at Giles'. The news had reported one of the college students was killed in his sleep, but no details on the who, why, or how. The Wiccas had brought by armfuls of books to add to Giles' armful of books. Rupert and Wills had gone to the magic shop. Anya and the boy were looking for clues around town.

Buffy had gone back to campus, looked into the college boy's murder, had found his heart neatly ripped from his chest. She'd changed clothes before she came back the slacks and leather jacket much more suited for ass-kicking, bright pink top aside. But, considering she'd had no sleep at all the night before, she'd ended up in an involuntary nap on the armchair she and Spike had shared during their brief betrothal.

Buffy looked so peaceful that way, the book open in her lap and her arms curled under her head. The few times she'd fallen asleep during the year they'd been shagging she yipped and twitched from nightmares, likely thinking about clawing her way out of her grave. Their last few nights together she hardly slept at all, so preoccupied with The First and keeping all those potentials alive. He'd never seen her like this.

When he felt a tap on his shoulder, Spike only barely kept the book in his own lap from flipping onto the floor and waking the Slayer. He turned halfway around, finding meek little Tara staring back at him. He'd forgotten she was even still here. Spike hadn't much known her like this, so tentative. His last solid memory of her was Buffy's twenty-first birthday party, how she'd been teasing him all night, so quick and subtle with her little jibs that no one else even noticed. He liked the timid witch and, after he'd gotten his head out of his own arse, liked how protective she was of Buffy. He remembered another night with her, when her family had come to town, how she'd been afraid she was part demon.

Spike tapped her wrist, reminding her she's gotten his attention for something, then looked at her and waited. She scribbled on the notepad Rupert had given her.

DO THEY KNOW?

Spike's eye twitched. She wrote again, beneath it.

ABOUT THE SOUL?

Spike would have, soddin' demonic spell whatsits or not, been rendered speechless. He only shook his head. She nodded, wisely, like she knew about keeping secrets. So pure, this one, and strong without realizing. The kind of creature Angelus would have loved chipping away at like he'd done Dru. Spike tensed when he thought about that. The boy with the Buffybot—he'd killed her before Spike had returned to town. Spike didn't blame Red for tearing apart his flesh. He would've done the same for Buffy or the Bit in a blink. Hell, he'd done it for Drusilla time and again.

Tara smiled over at Buffy without parting her lips. She stood, grabbing a blanket from the arm of the couch and taking it over to the armchair. The witch soundlessly grabbed Buffy's book and lay the wool blanket over her in its place. Buffy shifted, but stayed asleep. Spike had seen Tara do the same once or twice to the Lil' Bit the summer after Glory.

Tara stopped, staring at the page Buffy had been reading. She poked at the page, eyes wild when she looked at Spike. He held out a hand and she surrendered the book to him. On the page was a creepy bald man with huge teeth, grinning. The title read "The Seven Hearts and the Spell of Silence." Keeping a thumb on the page, Spike checked the cover, which simply read _Fairy Tales_. He nodded, handing the book back to Tara to read.

Once the sun was low in the sky again, the watcher sent up smoke signals to gather all the Scoobies in an empty classroom on campus. When Spike and Buffy entered, he had been hiding beneath his duster the entire way inside. The watcher, Xander, and Anya were already sitting at desks. The witches were nowhere to be found, so they all sat awkwardly in the classroom.

Spike, not fancying himself some kind of schoolboy, opted to pace instead, his boots falling especially heavy in the silence. Out of nowhere, a pen or something pegged him in the shoulder. Spike spun about, growling and looking immediately to the whelp. Xander only shrugged and shook his head. Spike turned to Buffy, who smiled unapologetically at him. When he looked down, he found some kind of girly makeup underfoot. Picking it up, he flung it back at the girl and she caught it with the slightest weave of her head.

It was then that the Wiccas arrived, Red carrying a stack of papers that she started handing out to the Scoobies. She ignored the fact that he was even there, but Tara tugged on the sleeve of his duster, standing next to him with her own sheet and holding it so they could read it over at the same time. "The Gentlemen" it read across the top. As it went on, one of them had doodled little creepy men with the teeth, and hearts beneath that. It amounted to:

"NEED 7 HEARTS

TAKE VOICES SO NO SCREAMS

NO SWORD CAN KILL THEM"

Buffy tapped on her desk, then held up a finger as she wrote on her board. GRENADE LAUNCHER?

Spike cracked a grin. He remembered Angelus coming back all defeated after the Slayer had figured out the simple and bloody solution to doing away with The Judge. He stuck his thumbs up, nodding vigorously. Willow shook her head. She took a piece of chalk from the desk at the front of the room, scribbling away on the black board in front: PRINCESS' SCREAM DEFEATS THEM.

The Slayer stared at the board, the huntress' gears clearly turning inside of her head as her green eyes frosted over. She wrote on her board again. WHERE ARE THEY?

Giles shrugged, tilting his head from side to side as he seemed to contemplate it. He wrote on his notepad. DEMON LOCATOR SPELL?

Willow nodded.

Spike could smell the fear coming off of the blond witch. Once they could speak again, he'd have to have a talk with her about her tosser father. For now, he shook his head. He stalked to the board, pulling the chalk from Wills' hand. She seemed annoyed, but he erased all she'd written with the side of his hand and wrote himself. HELLMOUTH. TOO MANY.

Tara instantly relaxed at this. Xander and the watcher joined each other in an eye roll. The boy waved his arms frantically at Spike. Anya only shrugged.

Buffy and Spike locked eyes at once. She patted her ears, and he tapped his nose. The rest of the lot just looked confused as hell. Buffy wrote on her board. BELLS RANG. BELL TOWER?

Giles nodded. WEAPONS? he wrote on his notepad. Buffy motioned toward Spike, using two fingers to mimic fangs against her lips, and Tara and Willow, twirling her finger like she was Bippity Boppity Booing.

Suddenly, the door to the classroom opened, very gently. A big, lurking form dressed in army greens and a ski mask slipped in, a stun gun in hand. Xander stood suddenly, standing in front of Anya so the mystery man couldn't see her. Spike licked his blunt teeth. He moved to the form, swiftly, removing the mask before anyone else knew what was happening.


	6. Chapter 5

_So this chapter is an especially short one. Since y'all are being so awesome, I'll post two today!_

 _This one goes out to momnesia, RKF22, RAGAnne, Cloongarvin, gabelou1991, and my guest reviewer._

 **Chapter 5**

Buffy reached into her bag, pulling out Mr. Pointy. She didn't know who it was invading their battle planning time, or what Spike thought he was doing, but suddenly it wasn't some strange commando guy standing in front of all of them, it was...

"Riley?" she mouthed, eyes squinting. It was fairly dark in the lecture hall, but that was definitely what her eyes were telling her.

His head snapped back as he mouthed "Buffy?" right back. Riley glared at the jagged stake in her hand until Buffy snapped to her senses and tossed it back into her bag. He looked to see who had snatched the mask from his head. He mouthed something, but Buffy couldn't tell what. Spike only grinned, shooting him some kind of a v-sign with his fingers.

Riley's attention turned back to Buffy. She pointed to his outfit and his mouth hung open. Before he could gesture anything back, something clicked and beeped. He pulled a walkie talkie from his belt, listening. Then he started pressing buttons, making long and short squeaks—Morse code?

Riley took a step toward Buffy, but Giles stood, removing his glasses. Buffy had missed when Giles was able to pull off the whole scary gonna-kick-your-ass vibe. Yikes. Watch out for the quiet ones. Anya, still seated, held tight to Xand's hand, running her thumb over his.

Riley, meanwhile, listened to more dolphin clicks and then left without so much as waving goodbye or... a salute, something. Buffy stood, gesturing wildly with both hands toward the door, looking around to see if anyone else was as shocked as she was. Most of them just seemed befuddled, which made some sense since they probably didn't realize it was Riley. The only one who probably knew him was Wills, and her lips were moving so furiously that Buffy was convinced if words were working Riley would be, like, growing a tail or losing some appendages or something. Spike looked totally and expectedly apathetic. He wrote on the board: INITIATIVE and then, under that (COMANDOS).

Of course Spike would choose the day they were cursed without voices to actually start saying something useful. She gathered up her coat and bag, pointing to Will, Spike, and Tara and jerking her head toward the door. Then she pointed to Giles, Xander, and Anya, pointer and middle finger to her eyes and then her finger swirling in the air, hoping that they got that she wanted them to patrol campus. Giles nodded and Buffy sprinted from the room.

xxxxx

They paused when they made it to the foot of the tower, the shadows behind the clock very clear. Buffy and Spike were the first inside, followed by Willow and Tara. They climbed the stairs until they reached the top. Buffy shuffled in, poking her head around. No creepy figures. Huh. She led the group of them further in, toward the backside of the huge clock. In the center of the room were these bunch of jars and stuff. When someone tapped her shoulder, Buffy turned. Spike flared his nostrils, then touched his fist to his chest, around where Buffy would stake him. She looked back. Four of the jars were filled.

Oh, ew. Hearts. Spike's hand was on her shoulder again. She looked first to his chipped black nails, remembering her dream. Buffy's face twisted up as she looked at him. He wasn't trying to get her attention. He was... calming her down? What the hell was with today? A crash from behind interrupted them, and when they spun around three of those straitjacket guys held Tara to the floor. Spike pounced without a second thought, ripping one of the demons away from her. She kicked away a second, and Willow shot some sparks at the third, but it only stumbled a little.

Buffy was about to jump in on the action when she was tackled from the side. The thing slid her across the wood floor. Buffy used the heel of her boot to flip herself so that she was on top and the creepy critter was pinned under her. A couple of good hits to its face and a 180 twist of its neck and the thing fell still, but not before Buffy was sidelined by another that pinned her down. She struggled against it, but realized that it wasn't trying to do anything but keep her there. Shimmying a little, she gained some leverage with her arm and used it to hook the demon's... arm? When she heard something like a bone crack, the thing shrunk away, chains clinking as it went.

Across the way, four tall, way too skinny suited guys had appeared. Buffy saw Willow grab Tara's hand. When they looked to one of the tall guys, he took a tumble down the stairs. The other three of them advanced, hovering instead of walking. Spike charged one, but it only deflected him with a slight shove that sent him careening toward the clock. Buffy went to kick one in its center, but one of the suited demons flipped her. She tried to regain balance on the way, stumbling into a huge brass bell.

Spike grabbed her around the waist, a question in his eyes. The feel of his hand against her sent all kinds of confusing vibes. The smell of the cigarettes, his leather coat, all bringing her back to that dream of him needing to show her something instead of tell. The rhyme, the... Buffy slapped him in the chest with a sudden realization. She formed her pointer fingers and thumbs into a square.

Spike nodded. He reached forward and tugged on a long rope dangling in front of them, making the bell clang. The suited demons held their hands to the sides of their heads, though they still smiled. Spike crouched and then lunged at the table of jars, picking up the box with the triangles and smashing it against the floor. White wispy-ness floated out, one each to him, Buffy, Tara, and Wills, the rest away from the tower.

Buffy shrieked as loud as she could. Now the demons' eyes were shut tight. They clawed at their faces until those faces exploded with chunky yellow pus. Buffy was fairly certain she was about to barf. She held a hand to her lower back where she guessed one of the minions had done some damage. Spike reached toward her, seemed to forget for a minute that they could probably talk again.

"You alright?" they heard Willow whisper to Tara.

"Need a hand, Slayer?" Spike offered.

"No," Buffy said, nose curling at him. She thought back to her words of only a few weeks ago: _So you haven't murdered anybody lately? Let's be best pals!_ She started for Willow, dusting off her pants. "Come on. Let's see if we can find Giles and the others."


	7. Chapter 6

_I'm posting two chapters today as a bonus, so make sure you read Chapter 5 first! Don't want anyone getting themselves all confused and disoriented._

 _This one is dedicated to each of you reading, favoriting, and following. 'Cause you rock._

 **Chapter 6**

"Spike, we're not just letting you go!"

"What're you gonna do to stop me, Harris?"

"Gee, I dunno. Get the Slayer to kick your ass? Or hell, if you supposedly can't hurt humans, I'll do a little tail kickin' myself!"

"Xander, would you stop?" Anya rubbed her hand on Xander's chest. "Clearly he's feeling emasculated and yelling is just making him feel better. I'm sure Spike won't even try to get out."

Spike grabbed his duster from the back of the couch and shrugged it on. Now that they'd done the de-briefing Scooby thing, he wanted to just go somewhere where they weren't. He wouldn't have minded if Buffy wanted to patrol with him or something, but having all of them around was driving him bloody mad. He blamed the claustrophobic feeling on having twenty mini-Slayers and the Scooby set all in the house on Revello Drive. He would give anything, right now, to be chained up in that basement, so long as he was alone.

"Spike," Buffy said, a cold warning. She stood between him and the door, her hands fisted at her sides and her expression stern.

"Bugger this," Spike said, moving for the door to Giles' apartment anyway. As he stalked out to the garden, not even bothering to close the door behind him, he heard the commotion inside. Moving as quickly as he could, he tried to make it off of the old man's property.

He didn't even make it halfway before he was hoisted by his coat and tossed to the side like a rag doll. Flipping to his feet, he spun around, face to face with the Slayer. They moved in a circle, matching evenly, step for step, so they never got closer. Then she lunged, pounced him, knocked him clear to the ground. Spike felt his skull scrape the stone.

Groaning, he couldn't help but stare up at her. Her golden hair hung like a curtain around their faces, which were only milimetres apart from each other. He knew that she could feel how hard he was against her by the insulted way her eyes scanned his face.

"You, uh, like to be on top, love?" Spike rolled his tongue behind his teeth, appreciating the way her heart sped up at the suggestion.

Someone somewhere cleared their throat and snapped the Slayer to her senses. "You're a pig, Spike." She jumped to her feet, never taking her eyes from him.

Spike stood, slowly, savoring the moment. He examined his coat as though he were looking for tears he knew weren't there. "The fact is this, sweetheart," he finally said. "I'm leaving, with or without your permission."

"Or what?"

Spike shrugged, moving toward the property line again. Buffy grabbed him by the collar and decked him. He licked the blood from his lip, then backhanded her. She waited, staring at him. No reaction.

"The chip?" Her eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, bloody—"

She decked him again, this punch harder than the last. Then twice more. With the fun he'd been having, he'd forgotten he was supposed to have the soddin' chip in his head. Spike grabbed her fist when she swung again. The boy tossed Buffy a stake and Spike took four long steps backward.

"Now, wait just a minute. Buffy!" He held his hands up, surrendering, but she didn't even slow down.

"If you don't have a chip, I'm not letting you loose on the world, Spike."

She had started plunging the stake in when a girl's scream stopped her. They all turned to the doorway of Rupert's apartment, where Tara was covering her mouth. "He has a s-s-soul."

"What, Tara?" Willow asked, tilting her head.

"No, no, Angel has a soul, Tara," Giles said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eye with his wrist. "Spike doesn't. In fact, I don't know any other vampire who does."

"S-s-sorry, Spike. I wasn't gonna tell 'em."

"No, I appreciate it, Earth Mother. Wasn't plannin' on tellin' 'em myself, but I guess I should've known Id' have to."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Buffy looked Spike in the eye, keeping the edge of Mr. Pointy poised where it had stabbed through the top layer of flesh over his unbeating heart. "Did you tell her you had a soul?"

"She figured it out all by herself, a'right?"

"I can see auras," Tara said, wrapping her long sweater tighter around herself. "It runs... in my family. Um, my mom. And he's got these, like, little light swirly spots. He's, um, vampire darkness with human soul mixed in?"

"How did you do it?" Anya asked, her eyes lighting up as she smiled.

"What? Ahn, he's not..."

"It _is_ possible. Did you... Where did you go for it?"

"Africa," Spike said with a shrug.

"You went to see the Nafsi?"

"When, exactly," the Watcher said in his _bloody Americans_ tone, "did you have the chance to visit Africa?"

"It's a long story, alright? I fought for my soul, I got my soul, I'm very soulful."

"So you're like Angel?" Red asked.

Spike pointed at her, growling. "I am nothing like the Great Poof, you got that?"

"Will, is there some kind of spell you can do?" Buffy asked, keeping her eyes on Spike. "Something to see if it's for real or he's just messing with us?"

"I... I could see, I guess."

"I think... in one of my mother's spell books, maybe," Tara offered. "It's this spell that lets other people see an aura. I can show you?"

"I've had enough spellwork done on me in my life, thanks," Spike said.

He knew it was a losing battle. Honestly, so long as he didn't have to put up with a bleeding stone getting shoved into his brain that triggered his urge to kill, he'd deal with it.

xxxxx

Buffy and Xander had chained Spike to the tub again once they realized he could hurt humans, and everyone had slept over at Giles' to make sure Spike didn't try anything fatally stupid during the night. Tara returned to her dorm to pick up her mother's book while Willow ran to the magic shop.

It was almost sundown when Buffy watched Willow speak the first lines of the spell. Giles had gathered and sprinkled the herb-y stuff in a circle around Spike, who Xand and Buffy had transferred (and tied) to a chair. Willow, Tara, Giles, and Anya each stood along the circle of spices.

"Mother Hecate, goddess of light and moon, of magic and the spirit realm, show us the essence, show us the way." Wills passed the book to Giles on her left.

"We beseech thee, grant us sight that we may see," he read, adjusting his glasses.

Xander leaned against a far wall, arms crossed over his chest, while Buffy paced with a stake in hand. She didn't know what game Spike was playing, or if they could trust this Tara girl, but she had to be ready for anything. She was the Slayer, the almighty freakin' Chosen One. Bring on the dark juju. Giles passed the book to Anya.

"Grant us the wisdom to understand," she shouted at the ceiling before passing it, finally, to Tara, who was looking at Spike head-on. He rolled his eyes. Tara's mouth opened, closed, and opened again.

"S'wrong, love?" he asked.

"Um." She turned and plucked something out of her bag. When she stood again, she held not the book but a small cloth in one hand and a knife with pretty amethysts and sparkly things on the handle in the other. "To make it only show your, um, aura, and not, like, blind us with everybody's, we need a little..."

"Blood?"

Tara nodded, eyes wide and on Willow.

"It's always blood." Spike held out his hand. Tara hesitated for only a moment, then stepped carefully over the line of herbs. She used the knife to make a cut in Spike's palm and he twisted his wrist in the rope that bound it so the blood dripped down onto the herbs.

"Hecate, we spill the life force and invite you here. Grant us your truth." Tara draped the cloth over Spike's wound, pressing it there for a moment until his hand clasped it. "Here you go."

"Ta, love." Spike nodded and Tara stepped back again, her long skirt almost swishing the spot where Spike's blood was. They all waited, glancing around the room. Buffy was expecting, maybe, fireworks, some angry spirit voices, something. Just when she was beginning to think the spell was a dud, wind picked up in Giles' apartment, though the door and windows were all closed.

"There it is," Tara muttered.

Suddenly Spike's body was outlined with a black smoky blur. It swirled, stalking almost like Spike did in his black coat in the shadows, the way he had when Buffy first met him. Little spots in the darkness shone gold, like stars in the night sky, and these swelled a little bigger until they took up almost a third of the shadow. Some of them started to take on a pinkish glow. Everyone looked to Tara to interpret it for them.

"The darkness is the demon. His, um, vampire side? And the goldish-whitish bits are the human parts of him. Kinda like his soul, I guess."

"And the pink?" Buffy asked. She rested her hands on her hips, still circling but more with curiosity than apprehension, almost forgetting altogether that she was still holding a stake. She stopped in front of Spike, watching his face. When they locked eyes, she could see the pink getting more intense in her periphery.

"Buff, what pink?" Xander asked.

"I—" She glanced back at Xander, then pointed in Spike's direction with her stake.

"Mother Hecate, we thank thee for thine guidance," Tara murmured quickly, bowing her head. The swirly magic-y stuff vanished altogether.

"Well, that was definitely a soul," Anya said. She walked toward the end table and picked up the bag of popcorn she'd taken a break from munching on.

"What? That might've just been a glitch!" Xand protested. "We don't know what we saw."

"Tara thinks it was, too!" Anya waved her hand so emphatically that a piece of popcorn went flying. Giles grumbled under his breath and picked the garbage up off of his living room floor. "Don't you trust me?"

"Ahn, not this again. Didn't we establish the relationship-y goodness we've got going with the whole I-put-myself-between-you-and-commando-Riley?"

"Have you heard from this Riley again, Buffy?" Giles walked into the kitchen.

"No. Wills, did you see him on campus or anything at all?"

Willow's nose twitched and she shook her head. "No. Sorry, Buffy. I really thought he was normal, I swear. Didn't figure he'd turn out to be a major poophead. I told him I'd beat him to death with a shovel if he was mean to you at all and everything."

"Dating life on the Hellmouth, I guess," Buffy grumbled. She adjusted the bandana holding her hair back. "Normal just ain't gonna happen."

"Well, unless you're with Xander," Anya said, smiling at him. Her face went stone cold, a bit of the old vengeance demon coming to the surface as she glared at Buffy. "You can't have Xander."

"Duly noted." Buffy sighed, tossing her stake onto the couch. "I should've gone away to college."

"Yeah. I'm sure Faith could've held down the fort!" Willow offered a goofy grin.

"Spike," Giles said, returning to the room with a mug that he handed off to the still-bound platinum blond pain in the ass. "You wrote something while we were silent. The _Initiative_. Were you planning on expanding upon that information?"

"I dunno. Is there a cookie in it for me if I talk?"

"There's more blood and a lack of a sound thrashing in it for you."

"Old softie." Spike dropped Tara's cloth and slurped from the mug Giles had given him. Buffy and Xander both audibly gagged. "How 'bout I also get to actually leave your flat?"

Buffy shrugged. "If he starts killing again, I'll just find him and dust him. It's not exactly like he's Captain Subtlety."

"That's the spirit, pet."

"Anyone mind if I un... untie him?"

Willow smiled over at her, then joined her, each of them untying one of Spike's hands. He sighed and slouched once he was free. Buffy half expected him to go on the attack. But he just stood up and gulped down some more blood.

"So what I don't understand is why the army would give Spike a soul," Xander said. "And also with the question of how."

"No, the army gave him a chip," Willow said. "Like, a Behavior Modification Chip. Like a soul, but without the actual guilty cookie-baking instinct."

"More like shockin' a bad doggie," Spike agreed. He set the mug down, rubbing at the back of his head.

"He got the soul from a demon."

"Demons give away souls?"

"You can fight for it. It's literally hell, but if you have that kind of stamina and a dash of being a glutton for punishment..." Anya said.

"That's right. I earned it, fair and square."

"You somehow lost your chip and went to Africa to gain a soul all in the space of Thanksgiving and Willow's spell?" Giles inquired, glasses sliding down his nose. "In the space of the week when you were chained to my tub."

"No. It's all very complicated, and I don't much feel like explainin' it."

"Fine." Buffy sat on one of Giles' barstools. "Spike's got something keeping him from killing, I don't really care about the specifics. Army guys. Spill."

"Right. Gits shocked me, locked me up, were doin' experiments on demons," he said. He was staring straight at Buffy, as though no one else were in the room. The intensity of it gave her major wiggins, made her squirm a little. Last vamp who looked at her like that got an axe to the neck. "There's this bloke named Adam, and he wants to make this Frankenstein army."

"Adam?"

"Yeah. Top secret government plaything." He licked his lips, seeming to think it all over. "S'all I can remember right now. Wills, if you could hack 'em, that might help."

"Sure. Secret encrypted government files? I'm your girl. The coroner's office is so high school."

"Since when is he the plan guy? If Giles isn't the plan guy, then I'm the plan guy! I'm the back-up plan guy!"

"Riley is one of 'em, too. Boy..." Spike took a deep breath. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and stuck it between his lips though he didn't light it. "He's regulation, just doesn't know half of what's going on there, I wager. Has corn for brains, that one."

"Regulation?" Buffy echoed. "My Slayer dream. He said that he was regulation."

Buffy twisted up her face, thinking. Spike had told her, in the dream, that he had to show her something or he'd get all dusty. If she hadn't seen it herself, would she have believed that Riley was part of the Initiative, or that Spike had a soul? That was a whole world of topsy-turvy. She wasn't sure she believed it and she'd seen both things with her own eyes. She might've staked Spike for saying either. Slayer dreams were way too big on the cryptic. They were like prophecies—completely useless until they happened.

"Slayer? Buffy?"

"Huh?"

"Said I might patrol and then try to find myself a crypt. Wanna come with?"

"Yeah, I guess." She grabbed her coat from the back of the couch. "Uh, Willow, I'm gonna just head back home after since break technically started yesterday. My mom wants to do the whole holiday shopping thing tomorrow. That okay?"

"Sure!" Willow said, waving her off. "Tara and I can go get some shopping done at the mall."

Spike glanced at the witches, licked his teeth, but said nothing.

 _Bonus author's note (I'm just getting bonus-happy today): I'm currently working on Chapter 29 of this story with a little ways (several chapters) to go yet. I'm already looking at sequel possibility. I've got at least one in mind, and possibly another after that. So I guess what I'm saying is this is very likely a trilogy in the making so you guys will have much to read from me in the future! :)_


	8. Chapter 7

_This chapter is dedicated to RAGAnne, momnesia, RKF22, shadow, and SeaPea._

 **Chapter 7**

Angel had ruined Christmas for Buffy. She could put up with the shopping (because, really, shopping), and the gift giving, and the ritual sacrifice with pie parts. But decorating the place reminded her of the tree topper, and that led down the bad road to him trying to sunbathe and only getting saved by random snow. Buffy was glad that The First Evil's only power seemed to be in trying to convince people to do stuff. Except for Angel, if it'd tried it with anyone else no one had paid any attention. Buffy stood with a length of red and silver garland in her hand, fingers separating each plastic tinsel-y piece.

"Do you think that might look nice on the mantle?" her mother asked as she walked into the room with yet another box.

"Sure." Buffy draped the garland over the fireplace, glancing out the front window. It was quiet tonight. Even the vamps and demons thought it was too cold. "Do you need me to get more boxes from the spare bedroom? Slayer strength and all." Buffy grinned, holding her arms wide open. "Come on. I don't mind playing pack mule!"

Joyce laughed, pulling glass figures on hooks from the box she'd just set on the nearest chair. "No, that's fine, Buffy. Why don't you help me hang some of these?"

Buffy walked to the tree, shifting the ornaments in the box around until she found her favorite—the figure skater with the chiffon blue skirt. She picked a spot front and center on the tree, hanging it on the highest branch she could reach. "Anyone ever tell you you're a Christmas hoarder, Mom?"

"Oh, hush. I'm a mother. I'm allowed to hoard. It's my right." Joyce fitted a glittering red star on the top of the tree.

"Well, so long as you're not putting out my handmade crap, I guess it's okay."

"Don't tempt me," Joyce said with a smile. "Buffy, I hope you don't mind, but I was talking with Rupe... Mr. Giles, and he said that he didn't have anywhere to go for the holidays, but his visa was approved again so he thought he'd just stay in the country. I invited him to join us for Christmas Eve."

"That's great, Mom. I'm all about the holiday invitation thing."

"I also said he could ask Willow and Xander, if that's alright."

"Of course." Buffy smiled. Xander wouldn't have to camp outside to avoid his parents and Wills was Jewish anyway, so it was unlikely she had Christmas-related plans. She hung a little cloth stocking that looked like a baby bootie from a lower-hanging branch. "Just so you know, that probably means Anya is coming, too."

"Anya?"

"Xander's new-ish girlfriend."

"Ah. Okay." Joyce stepped away from the tree, surveying it. "Hmm. I might see if there are some pieces from the gallery I can use to spruce up these decorations."

"But no evil-y demon masks that raise the dead!" Buffy pointed at her mother, sticking out her chin to imitate Wills' resolve face. "If it looks like it wants the room to die, I'm staking it just on principle."

"You kids and your stakes." Joyce stood up for a moment, brushing her curls out of her eyes. "I'll need you to pick up a few things from the store. I should be good on ham and pie, but—"

"How much pie do you have? Xander will eat one all on his own."

"Okay. So we need pie." Joyce started counting off on her fingers. "Milk, honey, hot cocoa, marshmallows, and Rupert mentioned he likes mushy peas, and maybe some wine."

"Ooh, drunk Giles." Buffy giggled. Her face froze when the band candy incident resurfaced. Of all the fangs and guts over the years, that was the thing she most needed therapy for. She'd have to keep an eye on the two of them. Buffy pulled a plain glittery glass ball from the box, straightening the red bow around its hook. "Wait, Mom, I can't get wine. For, like, another couple of years?"

"Well, I was going to ask you to see if Spike wanted to join us. Do they card vampires in Sunnydale?"

Buffy dropped the ornament. It smashed all over her stylish yet affordable boots, but she didn't really take more than a second to process that. "You _what_?"

"Rupert said that he's been helping you, and he has a soul now. I'm hoping that's not an Angel type of situation..."

"Even if it was, it's not like Spike and I are together because..." Buffy gagged shaking out her arms. Every kind of the wiggins, and all at once, too. "And it's apparently not a gypsy curse."

"Well, that's comforting." Joyce moved toward the fireplace, grabbing the broom and dustpan there. "He shouldn't be in a cemetery, alone, for the holidays."

"Yes, he should. He's a monster, Mom. With the blood and the... and the evil plotting."

"You've made exceptions before. And besides, I like his company. Most of your friends come over, ask me for a sandwich, and then go upstairs to help you whittle stakes or whatever it is that you do." Buffy was gearing up her protest of Spike being anywhere in the vicinity of the label of _friend_ , but she noticed the slightly sad look in her mom's eye. That lady, Pat, from the demon mask party had been her mom's only friend since LA, and Buffy didn't know if she'd made any since.

"If he tries to take a bite out of Xander, I'm tying him to a chair."

Joyce laid a hand on Buffy's shoulder, her eyes lighting up just a bit. "Thank you, sweetheart."

Buffy sighed and headed to the kitchen to grab her coat and winter gear, along with her mother's shopping list and the cash she'd left out on the counter.

xxxxx

When Buffy had patrolled with Spike the other night, after they determined that he was all soul-having, he'd pointed out a crypt that he liked. Of course, it had the whole skulls and coffins thing going, so Buffy was appropriately disgusted. When she opened the front door, she noticed the flickering lights first, probably candles. She tip-toed further in, the knit cap around her ears making it difficult to hear much of anything at first. She removed her hat, smoothing over her static-y hair.

When she was a few steps inside, she found Spike standing there. He'd already managed to find an armchair that he'd forced into the center of the room. Currently he was lighting some red candles he had across the top of a stone coffin and humming. No, not humming, Buffy realized as she got closer without making a sound herself. He was singing.

"I know I should go, but I follow you like a man possessed. There's a traitor here, beneath my breast, and it hurts me more than you've ever guessed. If my heart could beat—Slayer!" He jumped the moment he turned, a wreath in his hand and a cigarette propped in his lips. "Oi!" he shouted, grasping at the cigarette as the wreath dropped. "Sneaking up's not nice, Slayer."

"Sorry, I—What were you singing?" What Buffy forced herself not to say was _Damn, you've got some pipes._

"Old, uh... You wouldn't know it. I was feeling nostalgic. Come to help me decorate, pet?" He took a puff of tobacco and picked the wreath back up, walking to a free wall space with it and hanging it from a nail Buffy couldn't see.

"Did you steal that wreath?"

"Well, yes." He smirked, proud of himself. "But it's from the army gits, so it doesn't really count, does it?"

"The Initiative doesn't have a front door to hang a wreath on, Spike. How dumb do you think I am?"

"Whole lot've 'em live in the one house on campus, though."

"Which house?" Buffy crossed her arms over her chest.

"The red brick one where Captain Cardboard lives."

"Captain...?"

"Finn."

"Oh." Buffy glanced down, balling her hands into such tight fists that they shook. So much unresolved face-punching, so little time.

"Why're you here, pet? You don't have to tell me that it ain't for the company."

"Right." Buffy shook herself out of it. It wasn't like Riley was really close to her or anything. She hadn't told him about being the Slayer. She guessed she couldn't hold his secret military organization against him. Much. "My, uh, my mother sent me."

He flicked the cigarette away and faced Buffy. She examined him. Even in all her gloves and scarf and possession of actual life, she was freezing in here. Buffy wasn't quite sure how he was managing in just his black t-shirt and jeans. "How is Joyce?" His expression softened as he waited for her answer, which simultaneously startled Buffy and pissed her off.

"Okay, seriously. What's your deal been?"

"I like the lady. Treats me decent. Knows the marshmallows I like."

Buffy rolled her eyes. The marshmallows and the hot chocolate on her mother's list. That was for him. "Well, she felt bad that you're here during the holidays. She wanted to know if you wanted to come by for our Christmas Eve thing tomorrow."

"I—yeah?"

"Will you behave yourself?"

"Will the boy be there?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "I think I can manage."

"Fine. My mom also wanted me to get some wine but, ya know, underage."

"I might know a guy," Spike laughed. "Want to go grab it now?"

"Yeah. I gotta get some other stuff on her list, too, though." Buffy refused to mention the hot chocolate that was on there. "I think Mom was only planning on the two of us until six hours ago."

Spike started blowing out candles. When the lights completely extinguished, Buffy heard the leather of his coat shuffling around. She slid her hat back over her head. Spike snuck up on her, suddenly at her side when he spoke again.

"Ready to go, love?"

Buffy studied him in the dark, but of course there was nothing to study. It was like staring into his shadow aura except without the soul-y sunspots all over. Tara wouldn't tell her if she'd seen the pink bits too, or what it meant. But something about it was so unsettling. The way Spike looked at her since Willow's wonky spell... something about it wasn't right. She'd had her awkward moments where she thought about having made out with him and how he wasn't terribly awful in the skill department (okay, amazing), but she knew that hadn't changed anything between them. And the missing piece of when and how Spike got his soul was this huge, menacing question mark. It couldn't have been the Initiative, could it?

As the pair of them walked out of the crypt and into Restfield, Buffy's mind wandered to what her own aura might look like, if there were Slayer parts and girly parts and soul parts all separated out like his.


	9. Chapter 8

_This one goes out to gritspk, RAGAnne, RKF22, shadow, Joy, louzeyre, Cloongarvin, and Nyx-Arae._

 _For those of you who were hoping for some sweet moments and some Spuffy progress, I give you Christmas Eve! ;)_

 _Teaser: Next chapter we'll see some plot-related progress, some action, and the arrival of a character we haven't seen at all yet..._

 **Chapter 8**

Spike wasn't sure what Joyce might like. He knew she was a classy lady, so he had Willy give him his two best bottles of red (after clarifying that yes, he did mean wine and no, he wasn't just saying that because the Slayer was with him and carrying two large paper bags of food). He dropped Buffy and the stuff off at Revello Drive with the DeSoto, not coming inside with her because one, she'd probably stake him and two, he had to prepare himself to see Joyce again. It was enough of a shock seeing Buffy without the burdens the next years were going to bring, and the Scoobies still young and chipper. Joyce—he needed some time for the idea to settle.

By the time he showed up on Christmas Eve (he'd had to wait for the sun to disappear and all), the house on Revello was buzzing with the dulcet tones of Scoobies runnin' amok. Spike knocked on the door, tugging on the red button-down over his black tee. In his arms he cradled the frame he'd bought from a half-Brachen bloke who lived in an abandoned house over by The Bronze. He shifted in his boots, taking a deep breath.

"Come in!" someone shouted.

"Anya, you can't just say come in! This is how vampires get willy-nilly invites."

"But I'm not an owner of this home," Demon Girl shot back as she opened the front door. "Not all of us are that dense," she muttered so only Spike could hear, flashing him a smile. She waved him in.

When he entered, the girls were running all over the place. The witches were messing about with presents under the tree in the living room, Anya returning to help them. The boy was laying out on the couch, staring at some cartoon Christmas thing on the television, and the old man was examining the ornaments on the mantle. The ladies of the house were nowhere to be found. Suddenly, Tara caught sight of Spike staring at all of them. She waved and smiled, Red waving as well, though more unsure than her bird. Wills seemed to be warming up to him, at least a little, and he figured he had Tara to thank for that.

Xander, now that a commercial had popped onto the TV, glanced over at the girls. When he saw them waving, he lazily swiveled his head. At the sight of Spike he leapt to his feet, holding his hands out in front of him. "Okay, what did we say about allowing the evil undead into our homes?" He looked to the other guests. The only one who reacted at all was Giles, who stood a bit more rigidly. Spike noticed the glass in his hand.

"That the Bolney or the Knightsbridge?"

"Bolney, actually." Giles' eyes narrowed.

"What?" Spike asked, raising his scarred eyebrow. "You thought that anyone else in Sunnydale knew a good English wine when they saw one?"

"Can I please kick him out?" Xander shouted. "We can call it your guys' Christmas present to me." Spike noticed his eyes on the girls, especially Anya. He guessed it was sort of fair. Spike almost put a bottle through Red's face that one time.

"Xander Harris, I invited him." Joyce floated into the room from behind Spike, adjusting her oversized gold earrings. She wore a long, slim dress. Spike averted his eyes, ashamed for staring like he'd seen a ghost. Even preparing himself, the sight of her was a shock. "Hello, Spike. Want to help me with the cocoa?"

"Oh." Spike reached out awkwardly with his gift, wrapped in the day's newspaper. "Happy Christmas, Joyce."

"If she gets to open her presents, I want to open mine!" Anya protested from over by the tree.

"I'll wait for everyone else." Joyce smiled, handing the gift to Willow to put under the tree with the rest. "Thank you, Spike."

A hand on his shoulder, she gave him a peck on the cheek. He started toward the kitchen with her as the rest of the lot started up the chatter again in the living room. Spike stopped short, hearing something creak on the steps. He turned. At the top of the staircase, Buffy was watching him. Her long blond locks were tied back into a high, bouncy ponytail of soft curls. She wore a thin pink dress, so sweet, so unlike the girl who staked vampires and griped about demon guts on her boots. Her eyes shifted and she tucked some hair behind her ear, descending the steps.

"Mom, you need any help in the kitchen?"

"Sure. Could you get the plates and set the table for us?"

Buffy smiled and nodded, avoiding Spike's eyes as she passed him. He noticed that she didn't stop to poke her head in the room and check in on her mates.

xxxxx

"Yay, prezzies!" Buffy said, her legs at her side as she sat on the floor next to the Wiccas. The watcher and Joyce were sharing some more wine, sitting in armchairs like old marrieds. The boy sat in front of the unlit fireplace, his arm around Anya.

"I'm hoping for jewelry," the ex-demon gushed.

"Wow, you really did turn into a real girl, huh?" Xander murmured, nuzzling her ear.

Spike didn't think any of them had totally abstained from drinking a bit of the wine and being merry, but he'd hardly taken his eyes off of Buffy all night so he couldn't be sure. He'd been fighting, since the moment he'd arrived back in 1999, against all of his stupidest instincts to let her know that he loved her, to show the slightest hints of it. He didn't know how successful he had or hadn't been, but tonight he was a goner.

Tara opened a gift from Willow: a long sparkling hippie skirt. Then Anya from the boy: a pair of earrings with green stones that she exclaimed were just like her vengeance demon charm. Buffy from Rupert: some kind of good luck amulet from the magic shop. Next Tara pulled the roughshod attempt Spike had made.

"You don't have to open that, Joyce," Spike said, a hand to the back of his head. "It's nothin' special."

She only extended her hand, fingers grasping. Tara handed it over, her gaze warm. Joyce tore at the newspaper, flipping it over. The frame was a poorly maintained antique itself, its paint chipped away all over. The painting was nothing special—just some African landscape and some animals running about. But the half-Brachen had promised it was at least a century old.

"Oh, Spike."

The way Joyce said it made Spike duck his head and slump his shoulders. Always had a soft spot for Summers women, and mother-types.

"I haven't gotten one yet!" Red pouted. Spike, glad for the distraction from him and what a ponce he was being, watched as Buffy handed something blue and shiny to Wills.

xxxxx

Buffy had wrapped two of her mother's wool blankets around her and snuck out to the back porch. She sat on the steps, staring up at the stars. Even with the blankets, her ears and nose were freezing and she knew she wouldn't be able to stay out here for long. She shivered, letting out a long breath. How many nights had she been spending like this lately? Wills was with Tara all the time (Buffy tried not to be jealous, tried really hard not to take out the new-best-friend thing on Tara), and Xand had Anya keeping him busy with—blech—sexcapades.

The holidays were the perfect time for snuggling with your honey, and where was she? Alone, at night, with nothing but her thoughts... again. Maybe if things with Riley had worked out, maybe if she'd picked the right guy this time or been the right girl. At this rate, she'd never find someone who was cool with her shopping and going for mocha runs with Willow by day and then getting stake-happy with Mr. Pointy by night. She was lucky even Willow and Xander hadn't freaked and left. Even Angel, who she'd loved more than anything, never fit into her normal, non-Slay Girl life. The closest he'd gotten was those awkward all-business encounters at The Bronze. Buffy sighed again. More than anything, she just didn't want to be lonely like her mother.

Yay for being the Chosen One.

The back door opened and Buffy groaned, readying herself for the break in silence. She was not expecting it to be Spike's voice that she heard:

"Sorry, love. Didn't realize you were out here."

Before she'd even turned around, Spike was back in the house. He emerged again, in a flash, and handed her a steaming hot cup of cocoa. Buffy couldn't be bothered to contain the happy moan that escaped her at the instant warmth to her hands. Then she cleared her throat, self-conscious of moans being anywhere in the realm of associated with Spike.

"That do the trick?" Spike chuckled, lighting up a cigarette. It glowed orange, the smoke fading quickly in the shadows. "Sorry for all the marshmallows. I'd intended on havin' it myself, but..."

"Oh, here," Buffy said, holding it out to him.

He only shook his head until her hands retreated and she took a sip. "Mm, chocolate."

"You doin' alright?" He sat next to her on the steps and tapped the end of his cigarette against his knee. "A silent Buffy is never a good thing."

"You say that like we've spent any time together at all."

He opened his mouth and shrugged.

Buffy looked back to the sky, watching a shooting star. It was easier to talk to the sky than it was to talk to Spike. "Just something wrong with me, I guess."

"Is this about Finn?"

Buffy nodded. Didn't need to let him in on her jealous friend troubles, too. Riley didn't even know Spike. But Willow and Xander were inside, and if he wanted to hurt her all he had to do was listen, go in, and spill. She just couldn't do that right now. Buffy wanted to remember the laughing and the gifts and the storytelling from this Christmas Eve, not fighting or her being selfish and making things worse for everyone.

"He didn't... I mean, it wasn't... God, I'm such an idiot."

Buffy let the silence hang there, took another sip.

"It's not your fault the Hellmouth is full of pillocks who can't appreciate you."

Buffy glanced at him, sideways. "That the soul talking?"

"You're too bloody obsessed with that, love. Souled men can still be bad men. This is just me. You deserve..." Now he hung his head back, blowing the tobacco smoke up toward the moon. "You deserve to find that spark. To be happy. 'Specially you. Always savin' the..."

Buffy studied the pale planes of his face, gentle in the lack of lighting, his blue eyes just searching. Maybe this was a Drusilla thing, and he knew how badly bad relationships could suck. "Maybe all I get is Angel," she finally muttered. "I'm not supposed to live that long anyway, right?"

At that, Spike's entire body tensed. He took his time stomping the cigarette under his boot before turning to her. "The second you think that, Buffy, is the second that it comes true. Trust me, I know. I know Slayers." He stood, brushing off the front of his duster. "You've got your mates, yeah? Your mum. Your..." He chewed on his lower lip. "The watcher, all that. Ties to this world. You'll be the longest lived Slayer yet."

"Spike?" She stood, pulling the blankets tighter around herself again. "Why do I feel like there are things you aren't telling me? The way you talk to me, look at me..." She glanced at him, up and down once. "You used to look at me like you were about to pounce at any moment and tear my throat out. But now? I can't... I don't get it."

"You'd look at me like I was nuts and likely try to stake me if I told you everything," he said. "Maybe some time, a'right?"

Buffy couldn't trust him. But she thought back to the gifts, how thoughtful that old painting was, how it just left her mom speechless. She couldn't trust him, but maybe he wasn't all bad. Maybe. She held his shoulder, standing on her toes to kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, Spike."

He tilted his head at her, his dark eyebrows all scrunched up. "For what, love?"

Buffy smirked and raised her mug. "For the cocoa."

Spike laughed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. "You know what?"

"What?" Buffy half expected him to ruin everything with some stupid comment.

"Let's go kill some things."

"Oh thank God," Buffy said with a nod. "All I need is ten minutes to change."

Spike just got it.

He opened the back door to her home, and Buffy walked inside first, shedding the blankets nearly immediately.


	10. Chapter 9

_Dedicated to RAGAnne, RKF22, momnesia, gritspk, shadow, Cloongarvin, Nyx-Arae, and my guest reviewer. And, of course, sweetprincipale. Knowing you guys are enjoying this is what's keeping me writing._

 _(P.S. Teaser for tomorrow: It's about twice as long as this chapter, and I promise some action of the Spuffy variety!)_

 **Chapter 9**

The Bronze at New Year's was an oldie but a goodie. Xander broke out one of his crazy Hawaiian shirts, Anya and Willow went with short print dresses, Tara had on her Christmas gift. Buffy had gone through the motions with the short skirt/halter top combo, and she'd danced with a few guys (even Xander, when Anya let him that once), though mostly she ended up dancing with Willow and Tara.

About fifteen minutes before midnight everyone started crowding the dance floor. Buffy stood up from her table, draping her leather jacket over her arm and getting ready to join her friends. That's when she noticed a group of guys in khakis and sweaters rushing toward the door of The Bronze. Groups plus making it for the door meant bad things in Sunnydale. Buffy shrugged and followed them. Keeping her distance, she watched the group stop as they came to another guy: Riley.

"What's the order, Ry?"

"We have two HSTs who just escaped."

"They tagged?"

"Yes, but Professor Walsh thinks it might've been an inside job. Something with the tech that didn't look right. She wants us back at Lowell immediately."

"Should we—"

"Those were her orders."

They piled into a car, Riley in the driver's seat, and sped off in the direction of campus. So Spike hadn't been lying. They were at Lowell. And what was that about Professor Walsh? Buffy took her stake from her jacket and slipped the jacket on, starting toward Giles'.

xxxxx

Spike was sitting in his armchair, flipping through some old prophecy book he'd swiped (temporarily) from the watcher's flat. He knew he couldn't muck up too much or he risked Bit never being made by those damn monks, so no chance of going after Ben and killin' him yet. It was going to be hell convincing Buffy that they should be killing a human, seeing as how he hadn't really even been able to get through to the Scoobies that Ben was Glory. He wanted to be sure that, when the time did come, before he went after the boy and get himself jumped by scabby minions, that there wasn't some magic gourd ritual he had to do first or something.

Spike could hear someone approaching his crypt, someone trying to be subtle and failing miserably. He stood, tossing the watcher's book into one of the stone coffins he'd been using for storage. Moving quickly, he edged into the darkest shadows of his space, over in a far corner, and waited. The person was closer now, and he could smell a unique marker in the blood, something familiar, something only someone who'd killed two Slayers in his time and loved a third would recognized long enough not to get dusty. Chosen One blood.

The door opened, and she walked in. Long, dark hair wild, leather pants, and a shiny blade with a split down its middle. She craned her neck, could likely sense something in the shadows. Spike smirked. He guessed the mayor didn't train Slayers as well as Rupert had. He sighed, stepping out of the darkness, counting how many steps it took until she noticed him (four). "Faith."

"William the Bloody," she smiled, a spark in her eyes. She tilted her knife, making sure he noticed it. "God I love this town."

"Think you have the wrong kinda pointy object there, pet," he said, gesturing. "'less you were plannin' on helping me with my rodent situation."

"I'm not B. I like having a little fun before my kill." She took two steps toward him. The armchair directly between them, she started to sidestep to circle it without taking her eyes off of him. He met her step-for-step in the opposite direction, not letting her close in. From what he understood, the Dark Slayer had a psychotic streak, and he imagined that it was worse now than when he'd met her in the good fight against The First.

"You know, I hear that, unlike Buffy's last lapdog, you've actually managed to do a couple of Slayers in," Faith said, matching each of Spike's footsteps as they circled the armchair. She gave him the once-over. "Gotta say, I'm not gettin' the hype, Blondie."

"Lapdog, eh?" Spike flexed his fingers, starting to bounce on his feet the longer they circled. He hadn't had a good Slayer fight in the past couple of days.

"Yeah, you know, it's funny." She stopped in place, running her fingers over the edge of her blade. "Lot of demons around here remember me from the mayor. They were more than eager to help me out. And they weren't too happy with B, either. I asked around, where to find her. They told me cemeteries, UC Sunnydale. You know what else they told me? That you'd switched sides for her, seemed to be protecting her. So, what? You tryin' to get some action of the non-blood variety there?"

Been there, bloody done that, he thought with a scoff. "I have a soul now."

"What, they just givin' those away to vamps?" Faith waved the knife with a flourish, shaking her head. "But it's kind of... What's the word she used? Poetic."

Spike flinched but said nothing. There was no way she possibly could've known.

"Yeah. I mean, here I thought that the guy she was gonna gut me for was the love of her life, but now he's out of the picture and a _second_ vamp is playin' white knight instead? Hey, baby, I'll take what I can get."

"So what, love? Gonna carve up my pretty face to send Buffy a message?"

"It's a start."

"Yeah, one problem there, pet. She doesn't give a piss about me, and she loved Angel."

"Eh." Faith's lower lip pouted and she tilted her head to the side. "I think I'll just start carvin' and see what works."

Spike laughed. He'd only met Faith twice before—once when she teased him in Buffy's body, and the second when they were up against The First and she was claiming she'd reformed. She hadn't been nearly this bloodthirsty either time, and there was something Spike enjoyed about seeing her in full form. "Well, this should be fun."

Faith lunged across the chair at him like a wildcat, got her nails into his arms before he tossed her aside, smacking her into the nearest wall. She grinned, coming at him again but stopping short when he swerved. Spike crouched and then leapt, punching her three times on the cheek until she shoved the heel of her hand into his nose. He thumbed some of the blood away, licking it from his finger.

"You vamps are so sick. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," Spike said. "And you're Mary Bleedin' Poppins."

She took a swipe at him with her fancy knife, nicking his neck once, then twice. Spike grabbed her wrist, twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor. He kicked it as far as it'd go, then grabbed her by the shoulders and tossed her over the nearest stone coffin. She stuck the landing, shooting back up in less than five seconds. Faith grabbed the slab of stone on top, flinging it at Spike. He began to duck but it still whiffed him, knocking him to the ground with searing pain to his left shoulder and side of his head.

Then the girl was straddling him, alternating steel jabs to each side of his face. At least he'd have even bruising in the morning. "How does it feel being second best?" she shouted. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him up and shaking him. "You could disappear off the face of the freakin' planet, and all any of them'd talk about is them." She released him so hard against the ground that he swore his brains scrambled a little with the impact. "They came first, they're the noble ones, they're the only ones who..."

She paused, breathing heavily, a lost, faraway look in her eyes. Spike took advantage, flipping her and using his weight to keep her against the floor. She flailed, slapping at his arms and shrieking. "Get off of me! Get... get the fuck..."

"Shh." Spike gripped her elbows, stopping most of her movement. Her wide eyes had a look somewhere between "just do it already" and "I'll take you with me." A distinctly Slayer look. "Calm down, alright?" Once she stopped being so twitchy, Spike removed his hands and held them up flat. "I'm not gonna hurt ya. Now..." He stood, grabbing the pack of smokes from his armchair and the lighter from his jeans pocket. "Want one?"

"You're gonna have to do better than that," Faith said, flipping to her feet.

Her lip was split and the right side of her face covered in purple splotches, but the Slayer healing'd kick in any minute now. She'd be fine by morning. He imagined he looked a fair sight worse for the wear.

"I've got two bottles of Jack around here somewhere if you didn't smash 'em up." He lit one cigarette, puffed it, and then handed it to her. Faith accepted it, eyeing him suspiciously. "We can drink and see who manages to finish theirs first." He lit his own cigarette.

"Do vampires get hangovers?" She blew out a puff of gray smoke, the whole crypt feeling like it was warming up. Who needed a heating system, right?

"Do Slayers?"

"Yes." She smirked. "But it takes more than a bottle."


	11. Chapter 10

_This installment is dedicated to RKF22, CharmedKids, shadow, Jaime, RAGAnne, and gabelou1991._

 _After this chapter, prepare for some chapters of secret spillage, trying to figure out just what The Initiative/Riley are up to, and maybe a surprise or two (I hope)._

 _I'll be at a convention for a little under a week starting Wednesday, but I still plan on daily chapter posts. They'll just likely be a bit early as I'll be posting them before I start my day. I don't imagine that'll be an issue. ;)_

 _Have fun with this chapter, and please keep letting me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys._

 **Chapter 10**

"So do you think this Professor Walsh woman is somehow involved?"

"Not just involved," Buffy said, pacing the floor in her stilettos. "Riley was talking about her like she was, like, their general lady." She was grinding her teeth. "I mean, he was her TA in my Psych class last semester, so we know they know each other."

"So a psychology professor is running a secret military association?" Giles, still in frumpy sleep clothes that Buffy had woken him up in, took a sip from his glass of water. "Have you tried asking Spike if he recognized her?"

Buffy groaned. "Do I have to?"

"He's our best link to the Initiative right now. At any rate, we'll also see if Willow can look further into Professor Walsh's history and see what she might uncover."

"I dunno. She hasn't found anything on that Adam monster Spike mentioned. It is secret government stuff and all." Buffy rubbed her face, not giving a damn that she was probably smudging her eye makeup half to hell. "Remember when things used to be simple hijinks? Stake vamp, undo witchy body swap, kick some hyena spirit ass..."

"Demon-hunting puppet men, insect teachers mating with students, nightmares coming to life. Yes, how terribly simple." He returned his glass to the kitchen sink. "I'll contact the Watcher's Council and see if they have any information on the Initiative. It's hard to believe they'd be completely ignorant of their activity."

"I thought we don't work for them anymore."

"Yes, well, they don't exactly have much to do, do they? You're the only active Slayer, with Faith in hospital."

Buffy tightened her lips, glaring at Giles.

"Well, alright. And too homicidal against humans to be an active Slayer besides."

"Thank you."

"And you said there was an escape?"

"They called them HTs or something. I dunno. Buffy brain shuts off around weirdo military speak."

"Demons, perhaps? Spike said that they're experimenting on them."

Buffy rolled her neck. "I'll go patrol the usual spots, see if I catch any of 'em."

"Do be careful. Should I call Willow or Xander to come with you?"

"No," Buffy said, already heading for the door. "I've got this one. Just see if Wills can get on the hacking ASAP."

"Of course."

Buffy glanced over her shoulder, a smile without parting her lips. "Thanks, Watcher mine."

xxxxx

Spike sat on the stone floor with the Dark Slayer, each of them drinking from their own litre. She was in hysterics, using her hand to keep her wild hair out of her eyes. Spike probably shouldn't 've told her anything about the Powers and what was to come, but he was trying to help, trying to show her it was just in her best interest to get the hell out of town and live her own life. He couldn't tell if it was working or not.

"Warm champagne? Yeah, that sounds like me."

He hadn't told her anything that would've made him sound completely mad, nothing about Dawn or about Willow dabblin' in the dark arts. He didn't think she'd be talking to any of the Scoobies in the near future, but he still knew how it sounded.

"So you're B's only hope?" She was still giggling when she took another swig. "Man, she's a goner."

"Oi! Keep that up and I quit sharin' my cigs with you."

Faith laid her head back against the wall, looking to the ceiling. She almost looked like Buffy had on Christmas Eve, that lost "why am I here?" look. "I just don't know how you can stand her." She stretched her arms over her head, rolling her shoulders, her entire body cat-like. "The whole perfect princess nobility act gets old, trust me."

"That's we're the throw wrenches in the works types, right?"

She turned to him, her eyes suddenly extremely serious. "How can you stand Angel? I mean, B and me, we've got our major issues. Like, Godzilla v. Mothra major. But you two've got a century or two on us, right?"

"Yeah, well, I try to avoid him and hope he just stays out of Sunnyhell. The Forehead's great for leavin' girls and pretendin' he's got greater responsibilities elsewhere." Hell, he did it to Dru time and again, felt no loyalty at all to Darla or the whores from his life back in Ireland.

"So if you'd let him wear that necklace thingy it would've been his ass up in the clouds?"

Spike scratched at his chest, bare because of the unbuttoned shirt, and remembered the sunshine bursting out from his solar plexus because of that sodding Champion's amulet. "Prolly."

"Shit." She exhaled, shaking her head. "That's what you get for tryin' to do the right thing, man."

"Right you are, love."

He wouldn't have traded it for anything, of course. Buffy had chosen him, had seen him for the man who he was, had sent Angel away. If she needed him to stand in the sun for her, he'd never hesitate. Love's bitch alright. Something told Spike that Faith, on some level, got it. She'd been on the bad side of things, knew that it got a person buggered more often than not. The Dark Slayer reached over to his duster, flung on the floor from the armchair's back at some part during their tussle, and fished around in his pocket for another smoke.

"You know, you're a lot more talkative than I thought. Figured you for Action Girl, even more than Buffy. And Buffy's not big on the English language to begin with."

She slapped his shoulder playfully. "You're gettin' stuffy in your old age there, Blondie." She stood, stretching her arms and legs. Spike wondered if she was showing off, maybe looking for a quickie before she ran off. At any rate, he didn't take the bait. "It's probably about time for me to head out anyway. Sunrise is usually bedtime for me."

Spike breathed deep. He could still feel all kinds of sores and wounds, and he didn't want to get up if he didn't have to. But... "You gonna go after her?"

"I get the feelin' you're not going to let me." She smirked. "Don't worry about it, alright? Would I like to kick her ass to LA and back? Yeah. But I know my luck. And between you and me, I'm still a wanted fugitive, so I should probably get the hell outta dodge anyway."

"What for?"

"Killed a guy." She averted her eyes. "One of the mayor's boys. Before I worked for him. Was an accident, not that I felt wicked broody about it or anything, ya know?" She took a drag on her cigarette. "Anyway, I'm gonna grab myself a motorcycle, maybe do a cross-country trip back home. Or hell, find my own Hellmouth. I'm tired of B's leftovers, and Sunnydale's just chock full of 'em." She laughed. "Maybe I'll go find that shiny necklace you were on about."

"Just trust me," Spike said, pointing at her. "Don't put it on. However, if Angel happened to think that wearing it might be a good idea..."

"Right on." She smashed her cigarette against the wall. "Thanks for the fight, " she said, turning for the door to his crypt.

"Hey, Action Girl." Spike used the wall to guide himself to his feet then stood leaning to one side to mask the beating his left had taken. Faith stopped and glanced at him over her shoulder. "You're an alright bird. In fact, I like you quite a bit. But if you come after Buffy or any of that lot ever again—" He vamped, growling a little as he enunciated each of the next words. "I will kill you myself."

"Oh, baby." Faith's cherry red lips puckered and she blew him a kiss. "You can try." With that, Faith was gone.

Spike didn't bother trying for the armchair. He tossed off his button-down, stumbled toward his duster on the floor, and collapsed on top of it.

xxxxx

Buffy wished that Giles was wrong, but he wasn't. Spike was their man on the inside, except for the part where he wasn't actually a man. She opened the door to his crypt, edging inside. She'd gone back to her mom's place to get a change of clothes after uneventful patrolling and figured she might as well get this over with while Spike was trapped indoors anyway. The place was a mess, even for a crypt. A bunch of stone was smashed to pieces, along with what looked like a couple of his candles.

Wondering if he might've thrown a temper tantrum, Buffy pulled the stake from her coat pocket. About halfway into the crypt, pale and in a lump on the floor, was Spike. He shifted, laying on his back. His entire left side—torso exposed with no shirt on at all—was one big black and purple bruise. His neck was cut in a couple of places, the blood that had spilled dried there. His eyes were two swollen plums, and his usually slicked-back hair wild curls. Instinct taking over, Buffy rushed to his side, kneeling.

"Spike?"

She didn't want to touch him, was afraid she'd break him, but the bruises... they couldn't possibly be real. So she ran her fingertips over his ribs. Spike winced, covering her hand with his as his.

"Slayer?" His eyes blinked open. Buffy wondered if he was able to see anything at all. He twitched when he saw her kneeling over him. "Oh. It's you."

Buffy glanced at their joined hands, then yanked hers away. "What the hell happened? Was it The Initiative?"

He smacked his lips together, reaching to his right. Buffy looked at what he had grabbed—a majorly stinky bottle of alcohol that only had a couple of drops left in it. "Little blood'll sort it. Don't worry, pet." Spike drank what was left of the drink before dropping the bottle again.

"You didn't answer my question." She stood and he propped himself up on his elbows. Buffy had to harden herself, deny that she'd just checked to see if he was alright. Not to see if he was dead—then he'd be dust, and she'd also seen him move. Not good. So much of the not good. Why did she care about Spike?

"Not Initiative. Got into a bit of a brawl is all. Rough neighborhood. Was a spot of fun, though. Think you would've enjoyed it." He finally sat up, running his hand over his hair. "Fuck, it's cold in here."

"Well maybe you should put on a shirt." Buffy actively faced the wall. "Or your coat or something."

"Prolly."

With a pained groan, Spike got to his feet. Buffy caught his inability to stand up straight out of the corner of her eye. She kind of couldn't help feeling sorry for him.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "Little early for a visit."

"There were commandos at The Bronze last night." Her shoulders shrank a little. "Um, Riley was one of them. They were talking about—you sure you're alright?"

Spike nodded, swallowing loudly. He shuffled over to his new mini-fridge and opened it up, bringing out a mug that he started drinking from. "Go on, love."

"Riley mentioned Professor Walsh. And that two HTs or something had escaped. That it was some kind of inside job or something? I dunno. Know anything about it?"

Spike wiped at his lips, getting rid of most of the blood. "HSTs, pet. S'what they name their experiments. Hostile Subterrestrials. All clinical and proper that way. I'm Hostile 17. Don't know much about Walsh, or at all about the inside job, though. That's new."

"You have any contacts that could help?"

"Apparently my contacts at Willy's have been sending people looking to stake vamps after me, so probably not. Might have one or two left who'll help. Anyone scared of you should be willin', too. Clem, maybe, though he tends not to hear that kind of thing. Willy, of course."

"Is that what happened here?"

Spike nodded, finishing the last from his mug. "Can I tell you about it later? I'll come to the watcher's flat. It's not a big deal, and my head's 'bout to explode."

"Like, chip explode?" Buffy clutched harder at her stake. "I thought you didn't have a chip anymore." And weren't hurting humans, she added in her head.

"No. Like I didn't realize I could get hangovers explode. Or maybe it was the thrashin' I took." He shrugged. "It'll pass."

"Oh." Guilty, Buffy sheathed Mr. Pointy. "Why'd your demon buddies turn on you anyway? Were you cheating at poker?"

Spike put the mug on top of the fridge. "'Cause I'm workin' with you, I'd wager."

Buffy opened her mouth but couldn't figure out what to say. To be fair, Spike kinda deserved it. Not for working with her, but for the whole decades of killing innocents thing. But if he was going to be helpful soul-boy, she couldn't ride the righteous train for too many stops. She bent over, picking up his coat from the floor and shaking off the dirt and crap.

When she turned back to Spike, he was nose to nose with her. Buffy's breath caught. She hated seeing him this damaged, worse than the time she'd thrown an organ on him, except for the wheelchair part. Had to be a demon with slayer levels of strength, which she wasn't looking forward to if Spike hadn't already killed it. But something about the proximity of him, about him willing to work with her despite the apparently very real danger to him... And she couldn't get past the warm way he'd been looking at her since the mystery soul sitch.

Before she could even process, Spike's lips were on hers, his hands on her shoulders. It was passionate and Buffy's knee-jerk reaction was to reciprocate. Their lips moved in sync, following a rhythm they both seemed to know. Just when Buffy felt his tongue against her lips, she finally snapped back to real life, back to what was happening. She pulled away, backing herself up against the stone wall and holding his duster over the front of her.

"I'm sorry. Buffy, that won't..." His nostrils flared as he held his eyes shut tight, refusing to face her. "That will not happen again. I shouldn't have done that."

"Why..." Buffy rubbed at her lips, waiting for him to look at her.

"I wasn't thinking, love."

Buffy hadn't slept in 24 hours, so maybe she wasn't thinking straight. But all her mind could fill with were images:

Resting her head on Angel's shoulder during prom, knowing he was leaving her.

Parker blowing her off for some other girl he was hitting on.

Riley looking at her like a thing when he'd come into the classroom during the silence spell.

Willow promising she'd tell Buffy if she were repulsive.

Would she?

"Would who, Slayer?"

Great. She hadn't realized she'd said that last part out loud. Buffy became conscious of the fact that she was clutching Spike's coat to herself. "Sorry." She shoved the coat into his hands. "I shouldn't... I..."

"Buffy." He didn't ask, didn't make demands. Just looked at her and waited.

She fought the tightness in her throat, thought about running for the door. "You ever feel like there's something wrong with you?" She started pacing, waving her hands wildly. "Like there's all these pieces and you think, 'hey, there's some nice guy out there' and then the nice guy shows up, but he turns out to be a one-night stand scumbag and then you think, 'sure, there's another nice, normal guy who will think I'm just swell,' and then _he_ is working for some weirdo army let's-poke-demons-with-non-lethal-sticks club?"

Buffy stopped, twirling to face Spike. "But then _I'm_ the freak? Yeah, sure, I'm able to battle the forces of darkness and pick a to-die-for pair of Minolos with the best of 'em, but..." She growled, smacking the back of her head against the stone wall. "And now you think I'm a complete nutsack, which I probably am, and I'm confessing this to the guy who wants to drink the blood of my entire line, while he's shirtless and one big bruise." She smiled, big and false. "Happy New Year, Buffy."

"Let me tell you something, Summers," Spike said. He pulled on his duster, closing it around himself. "I was a ponce of a human, a hell of a vampire, and now I've got this soddin' soul while I'm still cravin' blood. I know from havin' too many pieces. And you want to know what my datin' history looks like, love? Fine. I got nothin' but laughed at until Dru found me, Dru treated me like one of her dollies who didn't even rank as high on the list as Miss Edith, and Harm, well, you've met her. So yeah, I understand feelin' like a freak, and I understand never findin' the right fit. I understand it pretty damn well."

He took a step closer. Though Buffy's Slayer instincts were going haywire _Don't get bitten! Stake! Go for the heart!_ she didn't feel threatened at all. "And believe me when I tell you that those berks aren't worth your frettin' about pleasing them, alright?"

Buffy nodded. She needed to get out of here before her sleep deprivation made her do something even stupider. "Um." She rubbed her eyes. "Want to meet at Giles' place at sundown?"

"Sure." Spike nodded, backing away from her. "Make sure the boy brings jellies?"

Buffy laughed. "Alright, sure. See ya." She started for the door, then paused. "Spike?"

"Yeah Slayer?"

"Thanks. For... for what you said."

"Sure." He licked his lips, then pointed at her. "But you owe me a patrol tonight. Gotta have some bloodshed to even out havin' a heart-to-heart with the Slayer."

"Yeah, well, we'll see if you eyes are human shaped again first, huh?"


	12. Chapter 11

_For RKF22, shadow, RAGAnne, momnesia, and Nyx-Arae!_

 **Chapter 11**

"Still wakin' up there, Buff?" Willow asked, eyes big and mouth crooked.

Buffy propped her head up with her hand, the other curled around her second steaming cardboard cup of coffee with five packets of sugar and a peppermint flavor shot. "Waking up implies sleep happened."

"Oh. Long night patrolling?"

"Ughn." Buffy's hand gave up. Her face fell directly on the table.

"Poor, sleep-deprived Buffy brain." Willow patted Buffy on the head. "Lots of vamps? Or did you run into army dweebs?"

Buffy forced herself to sit most of the way up. She gulped down as much coffee as she could before she was rendered unable to breath. "Riley, weird Initiative stuff, pent-upy-ness because no patrolling action, and then weird Spike stuff."

"Spike stuff?"

Willow licked some whipped cream from the top of her drink. Buffy wasn't convinced that a drink even lived underneath. Maybe that should be the next thing she ordered. Ooh, with chocolate drizzle! _Bad Buffy,_ she scolded herself. Focus.

"I went to see if he could confirm army guy stuff and his place was wrecked. So was he." Buffy hesitated, staring over at the Espresso Pump's chalkboard with types of drinks listed. The black with the yellow and pink words against it... "I think I went off the deep end, maybe a little."

Willow's eyes shifted. "Were you the one who wrecked his place?"

Buffy shook her head. "No." She waved her free hand. "See, that would be _less_ of the wiggy. I made sure that he was alright."

"Oh, well, that's not so bad."

"We had an actual conversation. About feelings."

"I mean, I guess that could..." Willow shrugged her shoulders. Even she hadn't been sure where she was attempting to go with that sentence.

"Wills. We—"

"What?" Willow raised in her seat a little, full-on apocalypse panic face going.

Buffy cringed. Willow loved her, nothing could change that... she was pretty sure. Hell, she was in an actual relationship with Angel and Willow had been with her every step of the way. It wasn't like creature of the night boyfriends were foreign to Wills, either. Hello, good ol' fuzzy Oz? But Buffy had so much trouble just saying the words. At least it'd be better than Xander's reaction, right?

Had to be.

Xander could never know.

"Spike kissed me."

"I—oh."

"And I kinda kissed him back."

"I, um, huh. So what does that..."

"Well, I'm not setting up the white picket." Buffy downed the rest of her drink, some of the pepperminty-ness invading her nose until she felt like she'd just inhaled liquid candy. "It's Spike, you know?"

Willow stirred her drink, glancing over her shoulder. "Tara likes him."

"Yeah. What is _with_ that?"

"Dunno. It's weird, right? But your mom likes him, too. I guess he has a certain kinda charm if he hasn't tried to, you know, kill you?"

Buffy thought of Spike helping her on patrol, coming to Christmas Eve and acting decent, the way he hadn't thrown what she'd said that morning back in her face and humiliated her. But he'd humiliated her before, with Parker, when he had the Gem of Amara. Sure, that'd been months ago, and pre-soul, she guessed. "What is with that soul stuff anyway?"

"Anya gave me the name of the guy he might've gone to. Apparently you can battle for your soul. There are, like, these trials and no one really knows what they are unless they've done it. But Buffy..." Willow shook her head, eyebrows and nose scrunching up into her research face. "It would've taken at least weeks if not months for the trials alone, plus travel time to Africa? And he was at Giles' the whole time..."

"So you think he doesn't have a soul?" Buffy wished that she hadn't sounded—that she hadn't been—so disappointed by the possibility. But it made the most sense, right?

"No, Tara's a very smart witch," Wills said with a proud little smile. "I think her spell worked. I just... There must be something else going on here, but I got nothin'. Do you... Do you _want_ him to have a soul?"

"Sure, I'd like to think that I haven't been leaving a homicidal monster free on the streets."

"Are you... Are you sure it's not more than that? 'Cause I'd understand, if it was." Willow concentrated on her whipped cream cup. "Sometimes things just happen that way, you know? You meet someone and these feelings, and then, just outta nowhere, something you didn't expect, but it's still nice and..."

"Lady, I am cuttin' you off," Buffy said, sliding Willow's cup toward herself. "I think you're having a sugar high malfunction."

"Hey! I was trying to help!" Willow pouted until Buffy handed the cup back. "Yay!"

"And about Spike, a whole world of no." Buffy kept her eyes to the table. "I mean, it's Spike, right?"

"Well, whatever the case, you've got my support, Buff," Willow assured her. "Unless you try to take my sugar from me again. 'Cause I _will_ curse you. Chanting, candles, the whole nine yards."

xxxxx

"Children, do stop fighting."

"But Willow won't let me help!"

"Anya, you are a thousand years old. Could you please stop—"

"I need my space! If you want me to crack this in the next century. It's a very delicate—"

"Xander!"

"What? Everyone's right!"

"M... Maybe we should..."

Spike missed heaven. No bickerin' Scoobies. Sure, there was also no booze, no brawls, and no blood. Maybe it was an even enough trade. He knocked on the watcher's front door, then stuck his hands in the pockets of his duster, rolling on the balls of his feet. They might stake him once he was finally forced to let them in on the fact that the Dark Slayer had left town without being turned over to the proper authorities. He hoped he'd given her enough of a head start to escape his Slayer's wrath. Just when it barely began to occur to him that Buffy might've told them about his slip-up in the crypt, the door opened. Rupert wasn't even wearing his glasses and looked about to throttle the nearest creature.

"Oh, excellent. This should make things better," Giles griped, stepping aside. "Spike always adds a true sense of maturity to the conversation."

"Would you close the door? It's freezing!" Demon Girl yelped.

Spike stalked inside, doing as she asked. He looked around the room, trying to assess the situation. Red sat at her laptop at Giles' desk, her lover-wicca next to her with an arm 'round her shoulder. Anya was tossing about books and papers on the same desk. The boy had some kind of a weapon, something that Spike vaguely recognized from the army blokes.

Buffy curled to one end of the couch, a map of the UC Sunnydale campus in front of her. She'd marked off a couple of places with red squiggles. The Slayer turned it around, looking at it upside-down, giving herself a different perspective. Spike crouched next to her side of the couch, looking it over. Lowell was marked, and the spot where she'd found him outside her dorm, where he'd come back from 2003.

"Want a hand there, pet?"

She murmured something non-committal. If she didn't hit him, he thought he might be alright sticking at her side. He tried to remember where the tunnels and caves were, but it was difficult. The whole bloody thing looked the same. Maybe if they did a patrol on campus he could pick up on a scent or... something. He remembered Adam's rotted human/demon flesh creating an extremely distinct odor. Once they were near the doors into the underground structure, he could probably suss out where Adam was from there.

"Why is he here? _Again_? Hey, Peroxide Boy! No one wants you here. Shoo!"

"Xander, do cease," Giles said, sinking into the other side of the couch.

Spike stood, turning to the girls. "Anything yet on how to get in, Red?"

"Not really. Maybe there's a way in the Lowell house, but I dunno how we're going to get in there without being detected." She chewed on her lower lip.

"Maybe... maybe if they have a party? We could pretend we're there for..." Tara's head sunk lower the longer she spoke until she just trailed off.

"Blond witch's got a good idea there," Spike agreed. For the first time since he'd arrived, they looked directly at him. Tara gasped. "What?"

Anya looked around the room, patiently waiting for someone to speak. "Fine," she groaned. "What the hell happened to your face?"

"Oh, that. Uh, got attacked in m'crypt." Spike rubbed his jaw, still sore. Girl had some real power. "It'll be better in a day or two."

"Did Buffy do that to you?" Anya continued. "Because the only thing that I can think of that can make that kind of lasting damage on such an old vampire... is... well, a Slayer." She glared at everyone else in the room, who was staring at her. For once, Spike wished to God the girl wasn't so honest all the time.

"Well c'mon, Spike," Buffy said, tossing the map on the overloaded coffee table. "You promised me you'd tell us when you came tonight."

"He prom... Buffster, when did you see him?"

"On patrol," she said, not turning to the boy.

Spike hadn't missed the gentle way she reminded him of his promise, and he guessed no one else had, either. "Slayer."

"Spike."

He huffed, throwing his head back. "No, the... The psycho Slayer. She came by and I took a few good smacks to the gob, a'right?"

"Faith's awake?" Buffy demanded, panic in her voice.

"Faith?" Red snapped out of her seat, backing away from the computer. "No, no, no. I mean, that's not good. She doesn't like me. And..." Willow stared, wide-eyed, at the witch on her left. Spike suspected he might be the only one who knew why, out of all of them, Red was most worried about her girl. Prolly 'cause no one had realized Tara was her girl yet.

"It's okay. I'm sure you could, um, distract her with Tinkerbell lights and run. If... if you saw her," Tara said with a warm smile and a subtle hand on her back.

"Spike, do you know where she might've gone next?" Giles asked.

"Mom." Buffy jumped to her feet. "Oh God. What if she went... If she thought I was... I spoke to Mom after the Espresso Pump, but..."

"I'll call her immediately," the watcher said, picking up the phone and dialing.

Buffy reached for her winter togs on the back of the couch, but he stilled her hand with his own.

"Shh, s'alright, love. I took care of it."

"What? Spike what do you..." Her eyes hardened over, chin sticking out as she raised to her full height and, it seemed, then some. "Did you kill her?" she asked, only loud enough that he could hear.

"No, alright?"

"Hello, Joyce?" they heard Giles say into the phone.

"See? She didn't bother you, your mum, your mates all day. Trust me, the girl was out for blood. I talked to her a bit, we got pissed, and then she decided it was best if she left town and found a Hellmouth of her own."

Buffy stared him straight in the eye, thinking it over. "If even one person..."

"I told her I'd kill her myself. Soul or no soul."

Buffy looked around, seeming to only just notice that everyone was watching them. "Fine. Faith's in the wind. Great. One less thing to worry about." She flopped back into her spot on the couch.

"So Spike," Wills said, tentatively breaking the silence as she sat back at her computer. "Any more info on Adam you'd like to share with me? I mean, us?"

The watcher hung up the phone and re-entered the room.

"Yeah. Uh, part real boy, part demon bits, part computer. Think big science experiment."

"So he'd likely be on the news if he were spotted. This is good news, right?" Anya nodded, chipper. "There have been no Frankenstein monsters on the news yet. I know, because Xander and I like to watch it after—"

"Ahn, for the love of God!"

"What? It drowns out the sounds of his parents' drunken arguments."

"And now that _that_ is burned into my cranium forever..." Giles sighed.

"And you said the tech hack was _new_ , right?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah. Didn't expect that." Spike guessed things had started changing already. Probably not enough to keep Buffy alive yet, or to keep Red from going power mad, but it was definitely a start. Things bein' set in motion and all that.

"That explains the second firewall here," Red muttered. "But it's sloppy. Overconfident. I can crack it once I figure the government encryption out."

"Spike," Rupert said, sitting on a barstool. "I think what Buffy was implying was that the choice of phrasing was... at best, odd. You can understand why we'd be... concerned... about trusting you for information, yes?"

"You never change," Spike said, shaking his head. "Even when I've got a soul, you... Just come out and say it, Rupes, and let's get it all out on the table."

"Fine." Giles' eyes darkened as he put his glasses back on and stared at Spike across the room. "I don't trust you. You haven't been entirely forthcoming, and if you want to be a part of this, then we need—"

Spike giggled. "Honest? Alright." He turned to Buffy. "How 'bout you, Slayer? Think I mean your lot harm, do you?"

Her eyes lowered, for a moment. Enough to tell him. She wouldn't say it in front of her friends, but some part of her trusted him. "Why did you get your soul, Spike?"

Spike exhaled slowly. "For you."

"What?" Xander said.

"Pardon?" Giles echoed.

"In the fall of this year, 'bout nine or ten months from now, I realized I loved you. And then... I hurt you, I didn't mean to but I did, and I went to win my soul. To give you what you deserve. I don't know that was even enough." He sucked in his cheeks, daring the watcher or the boy to tell him he was lying about that.

"In fall... Okay, guys. Did my brain just die or did Spike have a stroke?" Xander asked, raising his hand. "Giles, is there some secret Brit-man code here that we're missing?"

"No." Rupert paused, forehead creasing. "Why would they do it?"

"So there is a code!" Xander said, pointing between Spike and Giles. "Aha!"

"No. It's, as a watcher... Spike, why?"

"Giles?" Red sounded all kinds of nervous, her voice shaking.

"The Powers That Be."

"Yes, the bloody Powers That Bugger." Spike scuffed his boot on the floor. "I need to keep a couple of things from happening, that's all."

"A couple of—like what?" Buffy stood, studying his face.

God, she just had to make this more difficult to do, didn't she? Always did. Never was simple with this Slayer. "I don't know how much I'll fuck up if I tell you. I dunno that I was even supposed to tell you what I just did."

"But may... maybe we can help?"

Spike smiled at Tara. "I dunno. There's... Rupes, any idea what I should do here?"

"Do you remember what they told you when they offered you the opportunity?"

"That girl Cordelia—"

"Chase?"

"Cordy?"

"Please, let him finish," Rupert said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Spike?"

"I gotta..." Spike shifted on his boots, keeping his eyes on the watcher so he didn't have to guess what the girl was thinking when she heard it. "Gotta keep the Slayer safe, and Red's magic under control."

"Hey!" Wills said, eyebrows shooting up in indignation. "I don't need controlling. That's... misogynistic!"

"You don't need controllin' yet," Spike grumbled.

"And need I remind you," Buffy added, pointing between herself and Spike, "that as recently as a month ago we were betrothed?"

"Hey, you ate my apology cookies!" Willow shouted. Tara rested a hand on her shoulder, which made Wills jump.

"What does Willow do?" Anya asked, eyes narrowed at Spike. "The Powers don't just send people back for no reason at all. It had to be end of the world bad, right?"

"A couple'a times over, yeah, pet."

"What else is new?" Xander mumbled.

Spike and the Slayer locked eyes. She knew, without him having to say it. She knew that if he was sent to be a warrior at her side, it was because she'd lost a battle she wasn't meant to.

"I didn't ask for this, you know," Spike said. It was loud enough that they could all hear him, but he refused to take his eyes from the Slayer's. "I was in my eternal rest." He shrugged. "Then again, it was pretty boring."

"Hell? Boring?" Xander clucked his tongue, shaking his head. "They just don't make hell dimensions like they used to."

Buffy stood, walking to the other end of the room. The watcher stood as well, approaching her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and whispering to her. He heard the girl sob, then shake her head. No one in the room wanted to look at one another, and then Buffy turned to face Spike again. "Anything else?"

"Nothin' they told me. Stuff that might happen, but I don't want to muck everything up." Spike pleaded with his eyes, prayed this was one of those moments where they just understood each other. And it was. "Things've already started changing, so so long as they keep going this way, it should work. Try not to think about it too much, yeah? You'll get a headache."

"Already there," Xander said, raising his pointer finger.

"Me too," Tara said, holding her hands to her torso.

"Oh. You and I gotta have a chat sometime soon, Glinda," he said, jerking his head toward her.

"I was going to get a blanket from Xander's car while we tried to hack into the government," she said. "If you wanna...?"

Spike nodded. Tara left through the front door. "And Slayer, when I'm back we'll go on that patrol I was promised?"

Buffy stared off, her eyes glazed over and blank, the way they'd been when she'd walked down the stairs and he'd thought she was the bot again. He shook himself and headed out front.


	13. Chapter 12

_For shadow, RAGAnne, 1PocketElf, RKF22, and Cloongarvin._

 _As you can probably tell, I love Tara and playing with the Tara and Spike dynamic. Hopefully you guys are diggin' that!_

 _Another, less lovable character also appears here._

 _For the next chapter, prepare for some Big Bad/plot arc action!_

 **Chapter 12**

When Spike came to the road, the witch was playing with the fringes of some scratchy old sheet. She didn't look up even when he was right next to her.

"Is this... about Willow?"

"No," Spike said, then thought about it for a moment. "Well, not what I wanted to tell you. There's somethin' you should know about your blood, right?"

This caught her attention. Her head snapped up, blue eyes wide and frightened like a little bunny rabbit. "So you know?"

"If I tell you what I know, can you promise me somethin'?"

"What?" Tara tilted her head, examining him with a cautious curiosity.

"Red does better with you around. You know how powerful she is, don't you?"

Tara opened her mouth, but decided to just nod instead with one of her crooked little smiles.

"Will you keep an eye on her? If..."

Spike huffed, squaring his shoulders. Couldn't tell everything, but maybe just enough that she could help. So long as he kept The First locked up and the mini-Slayers from being activated, the PTB should be happy enough. That, and he wasn't going to let anything happen to Buffy. Hell, he was gonna do his level best to keep any of them from being taken from her. If he couldn't keep her from feeling ready to give up, then what the hell good was he?

"S... Spike?" Tara laid a gentle hand on his arm, and he jumped a bit, which made her jump a bit.

"Sorry, love. Lost myself for a mo' there." He cleared his throat. "But, uh, yeah. Where was I?"

"You asked me to keep an eye on Willow?"

"Right. You've been doing the magics longer, know what she should be dabblin' in and not. I imagine Rupes knows that distinction quite well, too. The pair of you can keep her from doing anything... unnatural?"

Spike looked at her, trying to see if she was makin' sense of any of his babbling.

"So like the 'will be done' spell? No forcing her will on others, that kinda thing?"

"Exactly, pet," Spike sighed. She didn't know the specifics, sure, but having someone on the inside, as it were, while he was keeping an eye on the Slayer, would do 'em all a lot of good. "Thanks."

"What did you want to tell me? About my bl... blood?" She gasped on the last word, her expression an apology. Then, her voice lowered even further. "Do I turn, on my birthday?

Spike chuckled, dark, and looked toward the car. That redneck had really done a number on the poor little bird. Could never understand types who feared a powerful lady. Dru was always her best when she was dancin' in the streets and snappin' necks, not sick and bedridden like after Prague. "No."

"No?"

"There's not a lick of demon in you, alright? It's an old family legend because your—" He gritted his teeth, thinking of a million insults but choking each one down in turn. "Your father wanted to keep you from leavin', from gettin' powerful. You're entirely human. Well, plus the witchy aura-readin' bits."

They shared a smile. Spike could feel something prickling at the back of his neck, a warning. Slayer. At first he worried that he'd been wrong, that Faith was back and about to open fire. But then he stopped and took a deep breath. Faith smelled like leather and adrenaline, not coconut and sunshine. Spike tried to resist turning around. He couldn't tell if Slayer hadn't trusted him to not bite Tara or is she had gotten impatient waiting, but if she didn't want to be seen then he'd pretend for her.

"You're prolly cold," he said to Tara. He tilted his head toward the old man's flat. "Why don't you get back in there, help your girl sort out where Adam might be? Tell the Slayer I'll only be a minute, yeah?" He raised his voice toward the end, just to be sure Buffy heard. "Need a smoke."

Tara nodded. She forced some of her hair behind her ears, then started for the door. Spike lit up, slowly, purposefully, as he heard the shifting behind him of Buffy, still hidden behind some hedges, keeping up with Tara.

"Spike?"

"Yeah?" He turned to Tara, halfway between the flat and him, a cigarette propped between his lips.

"Thanks."

"Of course, love."

"And... Do you?"

"Come again?"

Tara shuffled most of the way back to him, clutching the blanket to herself. "Love her. Do you really love Buffy?"

Spike bit the inside of his cheek. If the Slayer was around, she was far enough away that he couldn't tell, that maybe she couldn't hear him. Not like the answer changed one way or another. "I do, yeah," he said with a long drag on his cig. "Loved her enough to dust for her."

"I—oh."

Spike shrugged one shoulder. "S'alright." He winked. "I got better."

Tara had gone back in, and, when Spike was sure it was no longer useful, he stomped out his cigarette. He headed back toward the flat, the shouting voices clear from the outside. Spike vaguely wondered if the neighbors were gonna call the cops. Then again, it was Sunnyhell. Folks were good about closin' the shutters and pretendin' nothing was going on outside their doors.

"No! No non-humans in the Scooby gang!" Harris was screaming as Spike slipped inside.

"Wasn't Scooby a dog?" Buffy asked.

"What about ex-demons?" Anya protested.

"You're still human _now_."

"And witches?" Tara asked, her voice meek.

"Yeah, I mean, geez, witches can be evil, right? It's not like there are any poophead full-humans or anything!" Wills coughed pointedly, choking out, "Initiative."

"That's ridiculous! 'Cause witches, they were persecuted and, uh, Wicca good and love the Earth and, um, women power, and I'll be over here," he stuttered out, taking a seat and knowing when he was beaten.

The girls all laughed, Buffy's fading to a smile when she caught Spike looking at her. "You ready?"

"Sure, Slayer."

She nodded. Her winter bundling already done, she started for the street without him.

Spike shuffled over to the boy as Rupert asked something about the computer, looking positively bewildered. Xander's eyes were on the door, a small satisfaction clear in his eyes. Spike could say what he wanted about the boy, could complain about how he treated Spike, but he couldn't deny that Xander tried to do his best by Buffy, even if he fucked up from time to time. Anyone who did that won a lotta points with him.

"Thank you, Harris," Spike muttered so the others couldn't hear. "For makin' her laugh."

Xander jumped, seemingly unaware that Spike hadn't left yet. "Yeah, well, just make sure she gets to kill something out there tonight, huh?" Xander's attention turned to Demon Girl, whose hands were waving wildly as she shrieked at Willow. "And Spike?"

"Yeah Harris?"

"I still aggressively don't like you."

Spike clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You always know just what to say."

"Bite me, Bleach Boy."

Spike ran his tongue over his human teeth before heading out after the Slayer.

xxxxx

Buffy ducked gracefully, landing a kick to the center of the demon's slimy green chest. The Swamp Thing stumbled backwards, recovering quickly and spinning to swipe at Spike with one of its long wrist skewers.

"Oi!" Spike hit it with a roundhouse kick. "Watch the coat!" Buffy could tell that Spike wasn't at 100 percent. She guessed Faith had really taken it out of him. Though he was mostly starting to not look like a big bruise.

"Hey," Buffy said brightly, tapping the demon on the shoulder. "Anyone ever told you that shish-kabob vamp isn't all that good?" The demon spun, swiping across her stomach with one of the skewers. "Shish-kabob Slayer isn't better!" she screamed. Buffy took its wrist and snapped the skewer over her knee. The demon yowled and she used the distraction to drive the skewer all the way through its neck. It collapsed to the ground with a loud thump.

"Is it me, or are the demons around here getting stupider?" she asked, checking her stomach. She unbuttoned and opened her tan wool coat, which was definitely done for, no saving that. Even her sweater underneath was a poor, shredded goner. But luckily the layers left her with only some surface-level bleeding on her tummy itself. She'd probably be fine in an hour.

"Must be all that university learnin' makin' you feel superior." Spike laughed, still in vamp face, wiping some blood from his nose. "And also, Polgara demons are known for their appetites, not their brains." He nodded to her. "You a'right?"

"Yeah." Buffy wrapped her arms around her stomach to hide the damage. Partly she didn't want to be vulnerable in front of Spike, and partly she didn't want to tempt him with Slayer blood. His nose twitched, but he didn't say anything. "Come on. If we're lucky we'll catch some army brats heading home to Lowell."

"Right." He fell into step next to her.

Buffy noticed Spike's slight limp, but she didn't say anything about it. "Can I ask you something?" She'd heard at least part of what he'd said to Tara, about her not being evil, which was weird to bring up out of the blue but she guessed Future Boy knew more on that front than she did. She'd heard Tara ask if he loved her, but she didn't stick around for his answer.

"Sure, love," he said, glancing at her from the side. His face shifted back to human form, sharp lines, his eyes full of fear of what she might ask.

"You said that things were already changing. From, I guess, what you..." She winced, holding fingers to her temple. "From the first time you lived 1999, I guess? Time travel hurts my head."

Spike let out a short, harsh exhale that sounded like a laugh. "Uh-huh."

"What changed?"

"I can't... Buffy, I dunno if I'm allowed to tell you."

"But it's already happened!" she protested, her voice squeaky as they approached the front of the Lowell house. "It's not like you can screw it up now or anything."

"Fine, if you'll keep your sodding voice down. Some of us have targets on our backs here."

"Maybe both of us," Buffy agreed, whispering.

Spike sighed, sticking his hands in the pocket of his duster. They paused behind some hedges across the street. "Well, there's the soul, of course." He jerked his chin toward the house. Riley was leaving through the front door, meeting a guy who was approaching the porch and talking in hushed tones. "And him."

"Him?" Buffy tilted her head.

"Yeah. You dated White Bread for about a year."

"He was okay with the Slayer thing?"

"For a bit," he muttered. "Didn't end well."

The second guy entered the house, but Riley stayed outside, watching. Buffy wondered if he could see them behind the hedges, but he didn't move, just squinting there. "How not well is not well?"

"Hm?"

"I didn't..." Buffy chewed her lip, not really wanting to know the answer to this but kind of needing to. "I didn't have to kill him, did I?" Buffy didn't know if she could handle being cursed to kill all of the ones who stuck around long enough to be her boyfriend.

"No, no." Spike tilted his head, like he could hear something, but Buffy had no clue what it might be. "He was alive when he shoved off, made sure to crush you under his boot on his way out of town." The longer he spoke, the more his nostrils flared and his teeth were grinding together. "Pillock."

Buffy reached toward his arm, but before she made contact, Spike started storming off toward the porch. "Hey!" Buffy hissed after him. He was clearly in no mood to stop, and he didn't even seem to care who saw him. Before Riley could turn all the way, Spike had knocked him from his feet with one square hit to the jaw.

"Hey!" Buffy matched the hit on Spike's face. He held his ground, though he cradled his cheek.

"Been wantin' to do that for years."

"You cannot just go around hitting humans!"

"Hostile 17?" Riley jumped to his feet, squinting. "And... Buffy?" He pointed to Spike. "You're supposed to be chipped."

"I got over it," Spike said with a sneer.

"Buffy, you need to run."

"She can handle herself, mate."

"Spike." Buffy grabbed his arm, lowering her voice. "Come on. We should go."

"You want answers, pet? Why not get 'em direct from the source, right?" He grabbed Riley's wrist suddenly. Buffy was about to hit Spike again when she realized that Riley was holding a walkie talkie. Spike squeezed his grip until Riley dropped it. "Not smart, Soldier Boy."

Riley scowled at Spike and Spike released him, though Buffy hardly thought it was because of anything that Riley had done. "Didn't realize demons had names nowadays."

"Well have you ever asked nicely?" Spike shot back.

"Okay, wow." Buffy stuck her hands on her hips, shaking her head. "Boys and their testosterone. Spike. Hey." She put on her Slayer face, an iron grip on Spike's arm until he turned to her. Was he—snarling? "Go wait over there," Buffy said, motioning toward the hedges they'd come from. "I will handle this." She lifted her eyebrows, waiting.

Spike was muttering all kinds of made-up British words under his breath as he tore himself away from her and stalked back. She'd have to make this quick, because she didn't think he'd sit on the bench for very long.

"You're working with a—do you know what he is?"

"Vampire, yeah. Kinda understand that."

Riley's eyes found the wound on her stomach. By the time Buffy moved to cover it with her arms again, she was too late. "Did he—" He rubbed a hand over his mouth. "I'm calling this in." Riley bent over to reach for his walkie talkie, but Buffy held it pinned to the porch with the toe of her boot.

"I'm fine. It's mostly healed. Part of the Slayer package."

"Your... what?"

"Wow." She nodded, impressed. "Someone on the Hellmouth who _doesn't_ know I'm the Slayer. That's nifty."

"What's a Slayer?"

Buffy giggled, controlled herself, and then giggled again. "You're kidding, right?"

Riley looked at her, his eyes blank.

"Okay. Chosen One? Girl who beats up vampires? She of the many trashed outfits? No? Look it up later. I need to know about these Initiative guys you're working for. What're they doing? Spike said experimenting on vampires, but I have no idea why."

"Buffy, you're working with an HST."

"Long story, and I don't have a lot of time. What can you tell me about The Initiative?" she tried again.

"Finn?" a static-y voice came from the walkie talkie. Riley glanced at it. Buffy assumed he was trying to decide if he could take her or not. "Agent Finn?" Buffy recognized that voice. Maybe she wouldn't have if she didn't have the head's up, but... "Agent Finn, tell us your report," Professor Walsh said.

"You sure you don't have anything to tell me?" Buffy said.

Riley locked his jaw. Buffy shrugged, crushing the radio under her foot, and walked off toward Spike. She didn't want to hang around and wait for one of his army buddies to pass by and decide she was a threat.


	14. Chapter 13

_NOTE: I'm posting early today. (I warned you guys about the convention that'll have me probably posting a few hours earlier every day for a little less than a week.)_ _ **If you have not read Chapter 12, please make sure to read that one first!**_

 _Dedicated to RKF22, RAGAnne, and Blade Redwind._

 _This has lots of plot/arc significance, and (maybe) a surprise in there for you._

 _Next chapter begins the real reason why I had to rate this fic as M. Smut may/may not be involved. (Spoiler alert: It is!) You can always skim Chapter 14 if you gotta, but make sure to at least read some of it. There are things you won't want to miss, whether smut is your cup o' tea or not._

 **Chapter 13**

"Anyone else feel like maybe this wasn't the best idea?" Tara asked, gulping some punch from her cup.

"We're college students. It's a frat party. We'll be fine!" Red said with a bright smile. The second the blond witch turned her head, Wills choked down her own drink, never pausing for a breath.

"Not all of us are college students here," Xander said.

"Right, sorry Spike," Willow said with a wave of her hand.

Xander's mouth hung open as he stared at her, and Spike chuckled. "S'alright. I look young enough."

"Would you guys focus?" Buffy whispered. She stood on her tip-toes, craning her neck and surveying the party. She'd gotten dressed up all pink and sparkly but she was acting the part of huntress.

Anya sighed.

"Oh no."

"Oh no?" Buffy said, trying to see what was in Xander's line of sight. "Why with the oh no?"

"Oh, nothin', Buffster. That's just her wistful vengeance demon sigh."

"Fraternity parties. So many disgusting men worthy of so many _creative_ punishments." She smiled now, like a little girl seeing her birthday cake. It wasn't unlike Dru when she'd spotted something she wanted to chase and hunt and play with. "College girls tend to be unoriginal, of course. 'Oh, I wish he could never love anyone else again!' 'Oh, I wish his penis got diseases.' A little bit of my guidance and..." She sighed again.

Spike thought he was seeing things. He wished he was seeing things, because if he wasn't the Slayer'd probably dust him for plucking that git's head clean from his shoulders. Across the dance floor, staring at some poor unsuspecting brunette, was the Buffybot boy.

Warren.

"Slayer." Spike grabbed Buffy's bare arm a bit too roughly, setting her expression to immediate _Show me the danger so I might stake it_.

"What? Where?"

Spike glanced at Tara, remembered the Bit tellin' him how she'd just sat with the blond witch... after... in the room that had been her mother's, with Tara laying there, cold, a bullet wound in her chest. Willow'd run off. Buffy'd been shot, too, and didn't come home for hours.

"C'mon." He dragged Buffy through a set of dancing teens, keeping eyes on Warren the whole time.

"Spike, what're you doing?" She snapped free of his grip, shooting a look toward her friends.

"The boy over there," he said, tilting his head. "Trust me. You don't want to just leave him be."

Buffy side-eyed Warren. "Vampire?"

"Human. Bad variety." Spike shot a purposeful look over to the Scoobies.

"Does he..." Buffy licked her lips, her heartbeat speeding as the general idea seemed to hit her. "Who?"

Spike tightened his jaw.

"What am I supposed to do if he's human?" Buffy hissed. One of the dancing girls bumped into her by accident but didn't notice as she moved along.

"Watch 'im."

"Oh God," Buffy groaned. Before Spike could ask what she was gripin' about, Warren was tapping her on the shoulder.

"Hello beautiful," he said, cartoonishly sing-song.

"Uh..." Buffy grimaced and turned to him.

Spike, snarling, pulled Buffy close to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder and, for good measure, wrapped his arms around her waist. "Shove off."

"Sorry, man." Warren raised his hands in the air. "Didn't realize. Just didn't look like you two were doing..." He laughed, an awkward little squeak. "Well, much dancing."

Spike touched his lips to the Slayer's ear, hoping the act didn't lose him any bits he particularly enjoyed. "Didn't I tell him to sod off, love?"

Buffy glanced at him, clearly slightly nervous, but decided to play along. She exaggerated a pout. "You know, I think you did. Make him go away, honey."

Spike grinned, feral, eyes wild. He all but vamped out. Eyes on the robot boy the whole time, he rested his hands on Buffy's hips, leading her in swaying them. She held a hand to her hair, moving with him and shutting her eyes. Warren had walked away and Spike stopped but Buffy turned at the same time, glaring up at him. She held onto the shoulders of Spike's duster, digging her claws in just a little, and he barely continued a feather-light grasp of her hips.

"He gone?" Buffy mouthed.

Spike nodded once. They froze like that, hands on hips and shoulders. Spike had known from the first moment he'd seen her that the girl had moves. Taking deep breaths to clear his head, he attempted to access all of what little willpower he had. Had to let go of her, had to...

"Well he's being very twitchy," Buffy said. Her eyes followed Warren away from the dance floor. The little man kept checking over his shoulders. Buffy took Spike's hand, leading him in Warren's direction. "What was his deal? Is he demon-summon-y?"

Spike tried not to blather on like a fifteen-year-old ponce who couldn't speak to a girl. "Uh, no. Techie type, like Wills."

Buffy froze, nearly breaking his fingers the way she clasped onto 'em. That helped break some of the lusty fog problem.

Spike yanked his hand away, shaking it out. "What?"

"Tech. Like Wills. So if, say, someone's putting up those walls she's trying to hack, ones that aren't from the Initiative?"

"That... Pet, I'm fairly certain that was Adam."

But they hadn't heard about Adam escaping yet. Demons had been talkin' about him like a bleeding messiah when he showed up the last time, talked about nothing else. The news reported dead kids and stuff, he thought. They continued following Warren until he came to a mirror on the wall. Buffy and Spike looked at each other, and by the time they looked back at Warren he was inside of the wall and the mirror was shutting behind him.

"Damn it," Spike said, rushing the wall and slamming the side of it.

"Well, we know one way into the Initiative, don't we?" Buffy held her hands on her waist, pacing.

"He builds robots, Slayer. Uh, lady bots. I don't understand why he'd be involved with the Initiative."

"Lady—oh, ew."

Spike averted his eyes. "D'ya think he's working with the army gits? Maybe building them new toys?"

"Then why the sneaking around during a party diversion?" The mirror suddenly glowed red around the edges. "What did you do?" Buffy shrieked, taking three leaps back.

"I didn't touch anything!"

Finn and his toy soldiers came barreling down the hallway with all the grace of lead balloons. Spike tugged Buffy by the arm to the opposite end of the hall. He crouched, covering her sparkly outfit with his duster to blend in with the shadows better. The boys in green did something to the mirror and it opened for them. Buffy, without so much as glancing at Spike, rushed the hidden room. He only made it barely inside before the mirror closed behind them. Then the floor was falling, an elevator taking them deep into the earth. Finn punched some kind of code into a number pad.

"Bugger," Spike muttered. They were going into the Initiative. Unarmed, no back-up. Well, not totally unarmed. He let his fangs come forward as Finn turned around.

"Forrest! Graham! Hostile Seven—"

Before he could finish the thought, Buffy knocked him out with one solid punch to the temple. One of the others grabbed her around, arms and all. She kicked out, knocking another of them to the white tile ground. Two others flanked Spike and he grinned, showing off a bit of fang. They pulled out those shock-happy nightstick things they liked.

"Slayer, can I just taste one?"

"No, Spike," Buffy shouted, landing an uppercut on the poor bloke who'd previously been restraining her.

Spike grumbled. Both of the army men rushed him at once and he ducked. Reaching up, he grabbed one of the sticks and electrocuted the back of one of their knees. The boy convulsed and collapsed. Spike swung his leg out, knocking the last of them flat on his back. He moved for his stick again, but Spike took him by the collar of his polo and smacked the back of his head against the floor, just as the doors of the elevator were opening up. Buffy charged out, stopping in place after only a metre. Spike followed. The Initiative was as large and shiny as ever, definitely the result of some psych professor with a Freudian complex.

"Whoa."

"Pet, we gotta get moving." It was not sitting well with Spike that none of the dozens of scientists and army men were paying them a lick of mind, instead scrambling about and shouting orders like madmen. "Somethin's not right here."

"Warren did this?" They moved for the stairs down, into the mess of it. "Why?"

"All units to 314. I repeat, all unit to 314. Attempted hostile escape in progress."

Spike hit the nearest section of wall, shattering the tiles there. "Fuck."

"What the hell are you doing?" Buffy grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

"He's gettin' Adam out, Slayer. Not sure how he knows about him, but Adam's big on henchmen." He refused to look at her, leading her toward what he hoped was the control room area. "Wants to make more hybrids. Bot Boy must've offered to lend a hand."

"But the Frankenstein look is so two seasons ago."

Spike, still tensed up, turned to her as they ran, gracefully, side by side, never losing pace with one another. Buffy grinned over at him until they stopped in front of a big, important looking steel door.

"After you, m'lady," Spike said with a flourish of his hand. She landed a kick on the center of the door. It dented. The second and third time, Spike helped, each of their hits bending it more and more. When the hinges were finally warped enough, they each took a side of it and flung it across the room.

"We need a plan."

"See the video set-up, try to see who's up to what?"

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "You plan?"

They moved into the room. Spike couldn't hear any human heartbeats here, couldn't smell any kind of demon. The one wall was covered in TVs with all sorts of blue-ish feeds on them. Lots of army boys running, a couple of rooms with lab coat types in a frenzy. Then one hallway...

"There!" Spike tapped the screen. Warren, keeping his head down, was darting down a hallway. Following behind him was Adam, green and peach and steel all over, a hulking creature that neither crouched nor rushed.

"What the fuck."

"We gotta go."

"No. I have to help stop him."

"Buffy, you can't do it, not alone. You need stuff—spells, your Scoobies. There isn't time. Another day." He narrowed his eyes at her, willing her _Choose today to not be a stubborn bint, choose today to not be stubborn bint..._

"What about the tech stuff?" Buffy rushed back to the huge desk with all the flashing bits and bobs. She ducked her head, coming back up with a box. She picked up one of the CD cases inside. "Bingo!"

"Alright. Let's—"

Some kind of alarms were goin' off down here, too, now. Spike's eyes were wild as he looked at all the flashing, shrieking things in the room. He grabbed a nearby mechanical thing that looked like an arm and started using it to smash up the control panel. Once he'd gotten his fill, he chucked the mech arm across the room. The alarms were still screamin' in his ears. "Well, that didn't help."

"Of course it didn't help, you idiot!" Buffy gasped, staring at the broken wires crackling electricity.

Suddenly, the hall was swarmed with stomping boots. Spike wasn't about to make this all for nothing, to let his Slayer get taken and experimented on, or killed. Time to play the hero bit... again. He needed to rob a bank that night or somethin'. Reputation to uphold and all.

"Spike?"

"Use the cameras," he said. "Find one of the caves. They let out near campus. Get your lot together and figure that stuff out. Fast."

"What about you?"

"Me? I'm gonna go do something bloody stupid."

He flashed her a fangy grin and took off down the hall, duster billowing behind him. "Oi!" He shouted, disorienting them for a moment. "Oi! Over here! Lookie, lookie!" He passed the bulk of them, sprinting as quickly as he could. Had to give the Slayer ample space to escape, even if she had the couple of stragglers to deal with. "Hostile Seventeen! Who wants a nummy treat?" he shouted. "Come and get it, you prats!"


	15. Chapter 14

_So continues the convention early posting saga._

 _This one is dedicated to RKF22, RAGAnne, Nyx-Arae, and Cloongarvin._

 _Smut alert on this one, folks. I suggest skimming if it's not your cuppa. Since there are major implications in this chapter for the rest of the story/series I've got planned, I wouldn't skip altogether._

 **Chapter 14**

Buffy had waited at the opening of the cave for fifteen, maybe twenty, minutes for Spike to show. When he didn't, she figured he might've found a different exit and gone directly to Stevenson. She sprinted at a break-neck pace to her dorm room. When she opened it up, no one was there. Buffy called Giles while she hid the box of computer things under her bed, behind her weapons chest.

"I don't know if the Initiative got him or what."

"Buffy, why would you do something so rash?"

"Some guy named Warren went down there. Spike said that he's going to hurt one of us, and then it turns out he's helping Adam." She pulled the broadsword she'd loaned to Spike from the chest. Jaw locking, she snapped the lid of the chest shut. "And you haven't heard from anyone else?"

"Not since they went searching for you. The last time they saw Spike was with you. Tara and Willow went to check the cemeteries looking for you both, and Xander and Anya your house. I'll call if I hear anything."

"Thanks, Giles." Buffy hung up, turning to her dorm room door with a firm grip on the sword.

She almost flung said sword at the ceiling when the door opened. Standing there, facing her, was Spike.

"What the hell was that?" she demanded, falling hard on her feet as she moved toward the door. She grabbed Spike by the collar of his coat and flung him inside, closing and locking the door behind them.

"Well, I dinn't want to interrupt your call to the watcher, did I?" His hair had rebelled against the gel, curling wildly, and he had some kind of dust or soot or something on his coat.

"Not that, you idiot. The kamikaze deal back in the Initiative?"

"Worked," he said, quirking his scarred eyebrow and shrugging with the opposite shoulder. "You get out with the goodies for Red?"

"Spike."

"Slayer?"

Buffy's adrenaline was making her thoughts race. Angel had been the only guy who'd had her back like that before. But Angel... Angel still saw her as the girl with her lollipop back in LA. Spike was someone who knew and didn't mind how powerful she was. A fellow warrior. She didn't know that she could ever love anyone but Angel. But Angel wasn't here anymore, had abandoned her for his duty to whatever. Spike had returned for his duty, if that Powers That Be stuff was actually true, but that involved keeping her safe, and saving her best friend from some kind of scary magic badness. Buffy's brain was on the fritz, going into mega overload, and she didn't know how to tell up from down.

"I should go," Spike finally decided. "Want me to find the Wiccas and let 'em know I'm alright?" He started for her door.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, love?"

She dropped the broadsword, keeping her eyes on his as she moved forward, footsteps precise and sharp without her attention, until she reached Spike. She grabbed him by the collar of his coat and pulled his face down to hers. Buffy drew Spike into a deep, passionate kiss, her teeth grazing his lips. She slid the coat from his shoulders, then pinned him against the door.

Spike pressed a hand to either side of her face, the touch a natural fit, and the way that his lips attacked hers back made Buffy moan into his mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her against him, one of her legs on either side of his hips. Buffy grabbed at the hair on the back of his head, reminded of how soft it was. She nuzzled against the side of his neck and then was suddenly standing on the floor again.

"We can't do this." Spike ran his hands over his hair. "I can't just be a shag thing until you get bored."

"That's what you think this is?" Buffy's body was shaking from the rush—the adrenaline, the feel of her body against his, the way they'd each responded to the other's touch.

"It's the only reason that..." His eyes darkened and he sucked his cheeks in. "You know what I am." Spike's eyes flashed gold for a moment. "Soul's not gonna change that."

"I loved Angel."

"You'll always love Angel, pet. Did you miss my little speech on that one last year?"

Buffy took a step back. "I thought you said you loved me."

His nostrils flared. "Of course I love you, you daft—" A growl rose in the back of his throat, one that made Buffy's staking hand itchy. "Buffy, look at me. Why would I bleedin' give up heaven otherwise?"

He seemed like he meant it, and Spike was never great with the lying. Buffy sat down on her bed. She didn't know what this meant. What, she was good enough to love but he didn't want to touch her? He seemed pretty damn happy about it two minutes ago. Before she could work through that thought all the way, Spike was kneeling in front of her. He grabbed her hands in his, just waiting for her to say something. After warring with herself for another minute, she did.

"What's wrong with me? It's like the second I start to even do smoochies anymore it sends guys running in the opposite direction, and I—"

"Oh, Buffy, pet." Spike shushed her as she began to cry, hard. She felt his weight next to her on the bed, and then his arms were wrapped around her. Buffy responded, as she seemed to so often with Spike, by instinct. She held her head against his chest and draped her legs across his lap, curling against him and only sobbing harder. Spike brushed some of her hair away from her face. "This can't just be because of Angel, right?"

"Angel, Parker, Riley." Buffy shook her head, sitting back up. Spike still held his arms around her, and she didn't move her legs from his lap. "But then..." She harshly rubbed away the tears from her cheeks, willing herself to see clearly. "Even my friends don't get it, not really. They try to help, and..."

"They'll never be Supergirl," Spike filled in. He brushed some of her hair behind her ear. "It's always gonna be a choice for them, whether they fight vampires and what all. They couldn't possibly understand that you don't have the choice. That you _are_ the Slayer."

"And that I'm Buffy, too." She scrunched up her nose, convinced she wasn't making any sense. Then she thought of the only thing she had to compare it to. "It was like your aura. There was the dark demon-y bit, and the white soul bits and the pink weirdness..." She pulled back, looking directly at him. She felt Spike squirm, but he didn't move from her or push her away. "The pink... You..." When he had looked at her, the pink was stronger. No one else could see it...

Love?

Spike lowered his gaze. "How many times do I gotta say it, Slayer?" he whispered.

And without a second thought she threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight. They embraced for a while, the both of them, it felt like, just listening to her raspy breaths and insanely quick heartbeat. It took a while before it even occurred to Buffy how hard she was holding onto him. She uncoiled her arms suddenly and put some distance between her torso and his.

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"Wasn't I hurting you?"

Spike brushed some hair away from her face again. "I've taken a bit more of a beating from you than that, haven't I? There was, for instance, the matter of the organ."

Buffy released a soft laugh. Then she looked to her legs. "Oh, sorry." She tried to pull away because he'd just made it perfectly clear that he didn't want to do anything with her, and she'd decided to leap into his lap. Spike wasn't releasing her, though. He just held her there, against him. "What're you doing?" She dropped her arms from around his neck, but he didn't reciprocate. "Spike?"

"What would your mates think?" he asked, lowering his arms from around her shoulders to around her waist. "If you and I had just shagged?"

"Oh." Buffy hadn't thought about it much, aside from _Keep Xander away from the pointy objects_. "I kinda told Wills we kissed. She was a little confused, but I don't think she hated me for it. And she mentioned how Tara likes you." Spike grinned, rubbing his thumb against her hip as the Slayer continued on. "I dunno. I just know that when you ran off down in the Initiative, I was just so worried that... that you wouldn't be able to get out."

"Hence the sword," he said, smirking toward the shiny object on the floor.

"The idea of it, after you'd given me the chance to get myself out..." She smiled at him, but only just. "Twisted, right?"

"So are you saying...?" He titled his head.

"I... This is kinda new territory for me. You may be all with the knowing the future stuff, but a couple of months ago you and I were trading blows in the sunlight while you made me feel like shit about Parker. This is new."

"Uh-huh."

"But... You've watched out for me, my friends, my mom. You're still an annoying pain in the ass with terrible hair, but maybe... I do care about you, Spike."

His lips were on hers again before she'd even blinked. He shifted her around so that she was sitting on his lap, straddling him, as he sat on the edge of the bed. His hands ran through her hair, down her back, strong and intense as his lips matched hers. Buffy couldn't help thinking of it as one of their fights, where they anticipated one another's moves, managed to be a more-or-less even match in skill.

Spike started kissing along her jaw, down her neck, pausing to press his blunt teeth to her pulse point. Buffy jumped a little and gasped, some part Slayer warning and some part the sudden rush of wetness between her legs. She could feel Spike trying to move away from her but she grabbed the back of his hair and kept him pressed to her skin.

Taking the cue, he remained exactly where he was, his tongue lazily running up and down. Buffy moaned, moving her hips against the stiffness she could feel contained in his jeans. Once she started moving, Spike moaned as well, and the vibrations of it against her neck made Buffy's eyes roll up. She shoved his chest suddenly, laying him against the bed with her on top of him. He looked shocked for a moment. She rolled her shimmery pink halter top up her torso, the same thing she'd been wearing at the frat party that seemed like it was weeks ago now.

Spike just stared, slack-jawed, as she tossed it to the floor. Buffy chewed on her lower lip, getting a look at herself: nothing but her tanned skin and a strapless white lace bra to cover her top. And Spike had stopped doing fun things to her. Just as she began to think about shrinking away, he reached his hands out, sliding them up and down her sides. Even the relatively chaste touch made her insides tighten, the feel of his rough cool skin against her soft warm skin.

"Most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, one of his hands finding hers and squeezing.

"Yeah?"

Buffy found herself instilled with a new confidence. The guy who'd come to town swearing to kill her, the guy who couldn't keep his mouth shut for five seconds when his life depended on it, was stunned into silence for a whole thirty seconds just because of her. She knew that he was looking at the girl, but that he didn't mind the Slayer hiding underneath. She grinned, gripping his bare forearms experimentally and scratching at his skin, just a little. Spike hissed, his hips bucking against her.

"So what?" she said, an eyebrow raising. "You're just gonna lie there?"

His blue eyes flickered for a moment and he pursed his lips. "Ooh, cheeky bint." He twisted his hips and they went crashing to the floor with Buffy on the bottom.

xxxxx

"Ouch!" she yelped.

Spike immediately sat up on his knees, which he'd fitted on either side of her thighs. "Sorry." He touched her arms, trying to find any bruises or pains. "I didn't mean to go in that direction."

Buffy licked her lips, her eyes sparkling up at him. "What? The Big Bad's plan didn't go the way he wanted? Shocker."

Spike chuckled, lowering his chest to hers. He pressed his lips to her ear. "Like a little pain with your pleasure, pet?"

He was getting even stiffer thinking of their fight-turned-house-demolition shagging. Buffy hadn't loved him then; didn't make the experience any less hot. Spike lost the advantage, however, when she dug her pretty manicured claws into his back, making scratches that would fade in the next minute. Spike's cock was straining against his jeans.

"Do you?" she shot back.

Spike pulled away, working as quick as he could to get his damn pants unbuttoned. He kicked off his boots as she pulled his shirt over his head. She helped push away his jeans and he kicked them to the same place as the boots. He caught the Slayer examining him, her eyelids fluttering. "Well now I feel all exposed and indecent."

"You _are_ all exposed and indecent," Buffy said, more playful since it was paired with her combing those sweet little fingers through his hair.

"S'not fair," Spike pouted, running a finger along the underside of her bra.

"Oh!"

Buffy's hips moved toward his just a little, and with one stretch of her arm she was free of the lacey thing that had been covering her. Even when they'd been shagging after her friends had brought her back from the afterlife, she'd never let him admire her like this. It was hot and rough and shameful, and she wanted it over with as quick as possible. She moved to take care of her leather miniskirt, but Spike stopped her hand. He reached up the skirt, felt the little strip of fabric against her hip, and tore it.

"Spike!"

"I'll buy you all the lacey things you want later, alright?" He offered her a smug grin, presenting the ruined scrap of fabric up next to himself. "Just..." He ditched the lacey bit to rub his thumb over her breast. "Don't want to wait any longer."

She grazed her fingers along his length, making it damn near impossible to contain himself without vamping. "Me neither," she finally whispered. "Spike?"

"Yeah, Buffy?" he asked, biting her shoulder softly and sucking just hard enough to leave a welt. The Slayer blood running underneath only made him shudder with want for something he couldn't have.

"Will you... can we..."

He used all of his willpower to pull back and look her in the eye. "Anything you want, sweetheart. Just ask."

"Spike, I..." Her eyes just watched him for a moment, uncertain. Spike ran his fingertips in feather-light touches down her arms. "I want you inside me."

There weren't words he could think of to respond to that. Instead, he started kissing her all over her bare, soft torso, leaving wet little lips marks as he went. He lifted her skirt so it bunched around her waist and just stared at her split for a moment. He guided his cock inside of her, slowly, trying to make sure not to rush things just on account of him bein' an impatient prat. She whimpered, clutching at his thighs, and he was done for. He rocked back and forth inside of her, feeling her constrict him in time with her heartbeat.

"Spike!" she cried out. He mouthed her name as they released as one. He collapsed on top of her and she held him tight, her little pants so rapid he was about to remind her that she needed to breathe. They lay there, on the floor, like that until they feel asleep, still joined.


	16. Chapter 15

_Eh. These next couple of chapters are short. Have two._

 _Dedicated to Roscommon, RKF22, gritspk, RAGAnne, gabelou1991, and shadow._

 **Chapter 15**

They woke up and had another go twice more that night, teasing and laughing and just enjoying each other.

Spike thought he heard something, but it was distant and unimportant. In those mostly asleep moments, it started to dawn on him that the Slayer was nearby. He thought that the sound was a ringing not a banging, and when did she ever knock on his door anyway? When Spike opened his eyes, he found his arm around the Slayer, both of them naked under the sheet they snuggled beneath, her arm around his waist and her cheek pressed to his bare chest. He was in her room at the college, not his crypt. The girl was smiling in her sleep.

Spike cringed when he heard the ringing again, then looked over to her damn phone. Edging very carefully so as not to disturb her, he reached to the phone and picked it up. "What the bloody hell do you want?" he hissed.

"Spike?" Of course it was the watcher.

"Spike?" Buffy mumbled against his chest, grinning and snuggling.

"What do you want, Rupert?" Spike said, holding his arm tighter around Buffy, anticipating her running off in shame any minute now.

"Where's Buffy?"

"She's gettin' some kip, alright? Is there a damn apocalypse this early in the morning?"

"I... I..." Great. Now Spike had gone and broken the poor watcher.

Buffy stirred awake. She rubbed her eyes, looking at the phone in Spike's hand. "Who?" she mouthed.

"Giles," Spike mouthed back.

"Shit," she said under her breath. And just like that, she separated from him, keeping the sheet around her naughty bits. She held her hand out for the phone and Spike passed it to her. "Giles? What's wrong?"

"Buffy, you never checked in last night. I was going to make sure you were alright and, well, I guess you found Spike."

She blushed pink, tucking hair behind her ear as she glanced at Spike. "Um, yeah. He has a way of not letting me lose him."

"Buffy, what in the world is he—and he said that you were asleep? I—"

"Giles, calm down, alright?" Her voice was getting progressively higher pitched. "You're gonna give yourself a heart attack."

"Buffy, what is he doing there?"

"He, uh..." Buffy glanced at Spike's half-reclined form, the only thing keeping him from nakedness the sheet she was tugging on. Spike was tempted to tease her, throw it off altogether, but he behaved himself... for now. "He stayed at Stevenson."

"In your room, Buffy?"

"Uh..."

"Oh dear Lord."

"Giles, can I call you back later?"

"Please."

The watcher and the Slayer both hung up. The Slayer stayed on her side of the bed, keeping them from touching skin. She pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head against her knees, long blond locks flowing over the white sheet.

"You're still here," she finally said, staring at him.

"So're you," he muttered back.

Without warning, she curled back up in his arm, rubbing her hand against his abs. "It's a first for me," she admitted, tracing patterns in his skin that he couldn't see.

"Yeah, well, plenty of times I woke up without someone at my side when I went to sleep with 'em there." Dru, but Buffy loads of times, if he even got to sleep before she scarpered off.

"We should get to Giles', give him and Willow the files and stuff, see if they can make heads or tails of it."

"Yeah, your watcher ain't the ones-and-os type, pet."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Clearly. But maybe when Willow opens stuff he'll know some of the... stuff in there, like language-y things, I dunno!"

Spike was laughing at her now, and she rolled on top of him, straddling his lap.

"Hey, I'm go-in-and-give-the-beat-down girl, not decoder girl, okay? What, I'm supposed to do everything?"

Spike leaned forward and kissed her, could feel her lips smiling against his.

"I just gotta get there before too long. Wills wants to take me out for some one-on-one Bronze time for my birthday tonight."

"Your birthday's tonight?"

"Wednesday, but The Bronze'll be dead. Well, have less people. I think there are more dead things there on the weekends..."

Spike watched her brow furrow as she babbled, her thoughts spilling from her as she tried to work it all out. "You can go to Giles' on your own, yeah?" he said.

"Huh?" She glanced at the sunny window, mostly covered by curtains. "Oh, crap! Sorry, Spike. I didn't realize the..." She looked at the clock on one of the desks. "Is it really eleven?"

"I've got errands to run anyway. I'll use the tunnels."

He hadn't realized, with everything else going on (including the time warp dance he'd done) that it was already her birthday. He'd have to pick something nice, but something that wasn't poncey or made her think he was looking for some kinda reward. Great. He'd have to figure out how to get to the bloody mall without bursting into flames. Probably would have to wait until sundown...

Buffy's hips swiveled on him and Spike lost any semblance of thought. "We don't have to leave, like, right this second, do we?" she asked, chewing on her lip.

Before he could even answer, she lowered her split over him, taking his whole cock inside of her. They waited a moment, adjusting to the tightness and the warmth. Spike just looked at her, sitting on him in his lap as he sat on her dorm bed. He rested his hands on her hips and she started moving slowly, so painfully slowly that Spike could barely stand it. The pair of them gasped, him holding onto her hips and her grasping his shoulders.

xxxxx

Buffy combed the loose strands of hair behind her ears, adjusting the bun secured behind her head. Since Wills was planning on coming by any time now, she wanted to be ready for whatever Bronze thing she'd planned. If she was lucky, she thought that Willow might've brought a candle to stick in a cupcake. Sugar and Buffy were very mix-y things. So when Buffy heard the knock at the door, the "Come in" was automatic. It opened and standing there was not Willow, but Spike.

"You know, baby," he said with a smirk, striding in and closing the door behind him, "generally not safe to do that on a Hellmouth." His hand rested in the pocket of his coat.

"Yeah, well." Buffy approached him, too, and they met somewhere in the middle. "Slayer here. Think I can handle one vamp on my own."

"That's certainly frilly," he said, eyeing her short gold and black dress.

"Bronzing tonight, remember?"

"Yeah, uh, about that..."

"What?" Buffy assumed panic position. Had The Bronze been attacked by demons? was something wrong with Willow? There was way too much pausing and not enough filling in of the blanks. Buffy realized she was forgetting to breathe as she ducked and pulled a stake from her weapons chest. "Where is it and how do I kill it?"

"Oi! Down, Slayer," Spike said, hands held up to placate her. "And be careful where you point that thing, alright? No one's wounded and awaitin' your aid. I just have something..."

Buffy lowered the stake to her side, tilting her head at him. He reached into the pocket of his duster again. "Have what, Spike?" The gentleness with which she said it seemed to rattle them both.

"You better not bleedin' make fun of me," he warned.

"Spike, I—"

The dorm room door suddenly burst open. Buffy griped at her stake and Spike turned immediately. Willow stood there, frantic. "Buffy, you've got to come quick."

"What's wrong?"

"Demons, in the rec room. It looks like someone might've gotten hurt."

Spike and Buffy shared a look between them for a brief moment, an exchange of understanding one had the other's back, before bursting into the hall. They jogged down the stairs, two predators with silent steps, listening for any context clues to help them. When they entered the rec room, the lights were all on. Instead of the destroyed furniture and bleeding bodies Buffy had expected, what looked like everyone who lived in the dorm stood there smiling, with balloons and streamers all around.

Buffy held her stake behind her back as quickly as possible, her eyes finding Willow, Tara, Xander, and Anya standing in the corner and waving, and Giles over by the cake across the room, nodding. Buffy felt Spike's cold fingers against her hand and he took the stake from her, flawlessly slipping it into the pocket of his duster.


	17. Chapter 16

_**TODAY WAS A DOUBLE-POST DAY. MAKE SURE YOU READ CHAPTER 15 FIRST!**_

 _And this one goes to each and every reviewer, follower, favorite-r, and reader so far. Y'all are awesome!_

 _Plot/arc-y build-up and action coming to you over the next couple of chapters. See you then! (And please keep letting me know your thoughts. It's always lovely to hear from you guys!)_

 **Chapter 16**

Giles was polishing his glasses when Buffy headed over to him. He'd wished her a happy birthday and she made some small talk about her classes and asked about the files that she'd given him and Willow (that, on account of the party planning, they hadn't had the time to even really look at). But Buffy noticed that, the entire time, Giles was staring off behind her. Finally, she turned. Across the room, Spike was chatting with Tara and Willow, the two witches giggling at something he had punctuated with an exaggerated eye roll.

"So what was he doing in your room?"

Buffy jumped, the drink in her hand almost spilling onto the floor. "Patrol?"

"Pardon?" Giles looked at her over the tops of his glasses, the patented _Do I look like I bloody idiot?_ expression she knew really, really well.

"He was asking if I wanted to patrol, but I told him Willow wanted to go out," Buffy tried again. In all honesty, she didn't know what Spike had wanted since they'd been interrupted before he could say. But panic lead to Buffy babble, and she was pretty sure that any more disapproval from Giles' direction would make him explode.

"I meant this morning. When I called?"

"Oh." Buffy's eyes popped wide and she gulped. "Oh. Yeah." He hadn't asked when she'd come over his place, probably on account of Willow being around.

Giles raised his eyebrows.

"He... We..." Buffy cringed, placing her drink on the nearest surface to stall for time. Talking sexy Spike time with Giles in public? This party was rapidly becoming a celebration of the most awkward moment of her life, with cake. Buffy jumped when a slice of chocolate cake on a paper plate appeared under her nose.

"Looked like you could use a bit, Slayer."

Buffy took a deep breath, turning to Spike. "Could you try with the not being so stealthy?" She accepted the cake and took a huge bite to prevent herself from talking anymore, looking innocently to Giles as she chewed. Giles looked from one of them to the other, then to the cake.

"I see," he muttered.

"What's that, Watcher?" Spike asked, jerking his head toward Giles. Of course Spike would poke the bear. It's not like he had any other setting or anything.

Buffy grabbed Spike by the shoulder, digging her fingers in. "I was telling Giles about patrol last night," she said, willing him with the strain of her voice to see what she was going for. "About how we patrolled on campus 'til sunrise?"

"Right, yeah. Buggerin' boring, if you ask me." His hands slipped into the pockets of his coat, and Buffy remembered he'd done that earlier.

"Well, I don't believe I did," Giles said, glaring at Spike. "Excuse me."

And with that, Giles disappeared into the crowd of co-eds.

Spike turned to Buffy, his jaw held tight and his cheeks looking particularly hollow. "So what's all that, Summers? Not going to let anyone know you've been a naughty girl? Ashamed, are we?"

Buffy's eyes flickered with heat for a moment. She finished her cake and stuck the plate down next to her drink. "Well, I didn't think that telling Giles at my party that we had tons of amazing sex last night was probably the kind of thing to do over birthday cake."

"Are you planning on telling any of 'em? Or am I just your dirty little secret?"

"I—What's the matter with you?" He was acting like a two-year-old. Which, since it was Spike, Buffy guessed didn't come totally out of left field and shouldn't have surprised her.

Spike's nostrils flared as he seemed to calm himself down. "I love you, Buffy, and I've no idea where we stand."

Buffy made several squeaky noises that were starts to words that never escaped her. She gestured toward Willow and Xand and Tara and Anya talking together. Xander had frosting on half of his face and was crossing his eyes. Buffy didn't know how she felt about Spike, other than that she felt about him, in the warm and fuzzy kind of way.

She did her very best to imagine feeling ignored like Spike might be, which brought her to Parker badness. Buffy wasn't trying to give Spike the brush off. She was not Parker, and Spike was not some one night stand, this she was totally sure of. She grabbed either side of Spike's face, pulled him down to her, and kissed him, hard, making sure she caressed his lips with hers long enough that there was no mistake that she didn't give a crap who saw them. When she pulled away, Buffy held to his shoulders, giving him the sternest expression she could muster up.

Spike glanced across the room, and Buffy followed his gaze to her friends. It looked like Xander and Anya were arguing but, if Buffy had to guess, hadn't seen them. Tara smiled, small and shy, and Willow's lips were all twisty and worried, but she didn't look like she altogether disapproved.

"I'm a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants kinda gal, Spike."

He laughed softly and looked away. He almost looked bashful, as much as a bleach blond, leather-wearing old vampire could, Buffy guessed.

"So what did you come by to tell me anyway?"

"Oh, right. Uh..." Spike pulled a hand from his pocket, still balled up into a fist. "It's not much, alright? And if you don't like it, I don't expect anythin'. You can pitch it in the trash for all I care."

Buffy's eyes lit up and she bounced on her feet. "Ooh! Prezzie?" She held out her hand, waiting.

Spike licked his lips and handed something to her. Buffy looked to the palm of her hand. A bronze flower hung from a long chain. In the middle of the flower was a penny-sized dark red stone, the kind of color she immediately associated with Spike.

"Wow," Buffy gasped.

"I know it's a bit much. But I heard it's your birthstone and I know it's more Dru than you and I can take it back if—" Spike's nervous backpedaling was cut off when Buffy kissed him again, this time a hard peck on the lips.

"I love it."

"Really?"

She handed him the necklace back and turned around. Spike seemed to catch on because within the next moments he was securing the gift around her neck. Buffy watched her friends talking.

"You know," she said only loudly enough for Spike to hear, "you'd think at my birthday party they'd be paying me a little more attention."

"Want to go over there, pet? I can make m'self scarce so you can spend the time without tongue waggin'."

Buffy grasped his hand in hers when he'd finished putting her new necklace on her. She smiled back at him. "Willow and Xander, they're like the sister and brother I never had." Buffy was confused when Spike winced, but she didn't bring attention to it. "I just... I'm afraid that we're drifting apart. I don't want to forget about them because of slay-y stuff, ya know? And it was nice of them to think of doing this." She started dragging Spike with her across the room.

"So long as none of us suddenly turn evil or fall victim to vengeance spells or anythin', yeah," Spike grumbled. "Your birthdays're hardly known for their fairy tale endin's."

"That turning evil thing only happened the once," Buffy argued when they started closing in on the Scoobies. "And, as far as I know, you're still in possession of a soul after..." She let herself trail off as they joined the group. She didn't drop his hand. "Hey guys."

"Buffster! Happy birthday." Xander slapped on a huge smile and hugged Buffy with one arm, the other occupied with a cookie.

"Thanks, Xand."

When he pulled away, he looked down and saw her hand joined with Spike's. Buffy felt her heart stop as she waited for the reaction she knew had to be coming. Just because Tara and Willow were cool with Spike did not mean in any way, shape, or form that Xander would be. He opened his mouth, but Anya beat him to it.

"Why are you holding hands?" she demanded before nonchalantly cramming her own cookie in her mouth.

"Have you started opening presents yet?" Willow blurted with equal levels of awkward transition.

"Just one so far," Buffy said, smiling very quickly at Spike.

"Garnet, right?" Tara asked, staring at Buffy's necklace. "January birthstone?"

"Points to the Wicca," Spike said. "Good eye." He seemed to be positively beaming, and Buffy wasn't sure what percentage that was about her gift and what percentage was the vein about to bust open in Xander's neck.

"But seriously," Xand said, pointing.

"I think Buffy has a type," Anya said, examining her fingernails. Everyone waited for her to elaborate, which she didn't until she looked up and saw everyone staring at her. "Vampires with souls?"

"What ever happened to nice, normal Riley?" Xander protested. "I wanted another guy in the group, not undead Billy Idol."

"Hey!" Spike and Buffy said at once.

"I'm not here to be your pal, Harris. I'm here as long as the Slayer wants. Not a bad idea to have someone who can actually keep up with her rather than get his arse kicked."

"Plus Riley was a lying poophead," Willow said. "I'm starting to think all college guys must be."

"And would anyone who has not been or been with a creature of the night of some variety please raise their hand?" Buffy asked, placing her own free hand on her hip as she waited. Xander opened his mouth and then shut it again.

"So I've got major paper writing I've gotta catch up on tomorrow," Buffy continued. "Anyone want to go on a quick Espresso Pump run with me around noon?"

Anya wrapped her arms possessively around Xander. "We sleep in until then on Sundays, and usually continue the day with more sex and sometimes laundry."

Buffy cringed, shaking that particular image of Xander's basement out of her head. "Wills? Tara?"

"Sorry, Buffy," Willow said with a crooked smile. "We were going to look into some spells to see if they can help with the government code cracking."

"That's alright. I'd just be procrastinating anyway. And have you checked out the Buffy brain lately? So don't need the sugar."

Buffy forced on a smile. She felt like she hardly got to see her friends anymore. She missed all of them constantly bothering Giles in the library, hanging at The Bronze or Buffy's house, complaining about Snyder while roaming around cemeteries at night. Now it seemed like everyone had their own thing going on.

She guessed it was like Spike, though. He got Buffy, understood that girl Buffy struggled with Slayer Buffy, in a way no one else really seemed to acknowledge. Her friends seemed to wish she were all girl sometimes, and Giles' life would be totally easier if she were all Slayer like Kendra had been. Anya made Xander more confidant, and having Tara as a friend gave Willow someone witchy to talk to.

Spike squeezed her hand and Buffy reciprocated. He seemed to be able to read her mind, know that she needed that little boost of comfort to re-join the conversation, which had apparently shifted to plans for a Scooby meeting some time on Monday.


	18. Chapter 17

_For RKF22, RAGAnne, gritspk, and Cloongarvin!_

 _Buffy and Spike are in for some surprises next chapter..._

 **Chapter 17**

Buffy had invited Spike to the Scooby meeting, but he'd granted Harris some relief and told her he'd rather be patrolling anyway. He'd snapped the necks of two vamps already, but both fledglings so it didn't take more than a minute for either of 'em. He knew that there was a place Fyarl demons liked to hang about, waiting for someone to point them in the direction of something to crush. He stalked over, hoping a fight with a beast of a demon like that would be a bit more satisfying.

Of course, he could just crash the Scooby meeting. There was a certain satisfaction in irritating Harris, especially when the Slayer was on Spike's side. But he lucked out and found a Fyarl wrapped in, of all things, some potato sack of a blanket.

"Well, lookie what we've got here," Spike said with a grin while the demon's back was still turned. He was still vamped so it'd be easier to see at night and sniff out demons and kick some ass. Spike licked his fangs. This might do the trick.

"Wonderful," the demon said, turning. "Well, let's get this over with, shall we?"

Spike pursed his lips, tilting his head. "Rupert?"

"Spike? Am I speaking English?"

"No, Fyarl. But you're doin' it with the most stiff upper vocabulary I ever heard." Spike de-vamped, running a hand over his face. "What the hell happened to you? Thought you were leading Scooby time today."

"I woke up this way."

"Uh... huh..." Spike dragged out each syllable. Something about this rang a bell, but the details were fuzzy. He hadn't been hanging around the girl much 'til the Bit, after all. Even when he tried to focus, it was difficult. Something about a spell, he thought, and him getting paid to help. "Red's magic gone awry again?" he wagered. "Told the good little witch to keep her eye on her."

"It wasn't Willow. I went for a drink with Ethan last night, and..."

"Ethan?" Spike's dark eyebrows drew down as he pulled a smoke from his duster pocket and lit up, taking a long drag. "The costume bloke?"

He could've sworn he was the one Dru had the vision about, the one who'd made the Slayer a helpless Victorian lady for all of five minutes, enough to lull Spike into a false sense of security and let Buffy hand his arse to him. Sometimes he missed a good brawl with her.

"Yes. You remember him?"

Spike snapped and pointed at Giles with his free hand. "The witches. They can undo it, can't they?"

"Perhaps, but they'd need to break whatever talisman he used."

"C'mon. They should be at your flat right now, right? We'll go and see what we can get 'em to do, and if we can't find the bastard. You got your car 'round?"

"Yes, uh, this way."

Spike followed Giles to the edge of the cemetery, continuing to puff away on his cigarette. "Why were you out gettin' pissed with that git, anyway, Watcher? You're more the glass of wine at home type, aren't you?"

"Yes, well, I wanted not to be for a moment, alright?" Giles was growling. Spike's instincts called him to vamp again, to growl right on back and rise to the challenge. He managed to control himself. "I'd felt old enough attending a party at a college dormitory."

"So what? Mid-life crisis watcher got himself turned into a de—Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me."

They'd come to a rickety bucket of rusted bolts that might've passed for a car in 1937. Spike was pretty sure he'd learned how to drive in a similar model. He wasn't sure how a Fyarl demon had not only gotten inside but also operated the damn thing.

"It's a classic," Giles argued, shoving the keys into Spike's hand before squeezing himself into the passenger's side.

"Tosser's lucky I'm love's bitch and the Slayer cares 'bout him," Spike grumbled, getting into the car and steering it away from the curb. "You need to find a better class of friend, mate. And why in the bleedin' hell would he turn you into a demon?"

"Well, he worships chaos. God, I'd love to rip the spine from his back and..." Giles was growling more deeply now, and Spike couldn't do anything about his eyes flashing amber for a moment in response.

"We need to get you fixed up right quick."

"I suppose it'll win you points with Buffy, won't it?"

"Well, I don't think that letting her would-be daddy turn full demon would, now would it? What is with you, Rupert?"

"I see the way you look at her, the way she's been with you all the time. I will not see her hurt."

"So quick to the conclusions, are we? You know, I've forgiven you."

"Forgiven me? Are you mad?"

"Okay, well maybe not forgiven you. But I never gave you any kinda thrashin' for almost gettin' me killed."

"If I had my way, Spike, you'd already be dead."

"You tried it. In, oh, 2003?" They pulled up to the watcher's flat. Spike turned off the car but sat there, staring at Rupert. "Buffy was none too pleased."

"And we have what to go on that any of this future rubbish is true? Your impeccable word?"

"Buffy—"

"Buffy has a good heart. Sometimes that gets in the way of her seeing others' true intentions."

"Buffy is a grown woman, more grown than anyone else her age. She's not the little girl in braids you're makin' her out to be."

"So, what? I should just remove myself from her life?"

Spike stopped and inspected the watcher. That's what this was about. He thought the girl didn't need him anymore, had replaced him. And with another vampire after they'd managed to rid Sunnydale of Angel, no less.

"Uh, Spike?"

Spike turned about, saw Buffy blinking at him from the other side of the car window. He opened the door part of the way. "Yeah, love?"

"What's with the big scary demon you brought to Giles' for dinner?"

"He's my date." Spike grinned, raising his eyebrows.

"Spike." Hands found hips.

"Giles."

"What about Giles?"

Spike gestured toward the huge, horned red creature in the passenger's seat next to him, stopping short of saying "ta-da." The Fyarl Giles twitched his massive fingers in a wave, complete with an unnerving smile. Buffy stumbled two steps back.

"What did you do?" she shrieked at Spike, her facial features exaggerated with sheer outrage.

"It wasn't me, Slayer!" Spike shot up out of the car as Giles struggled to escape on his side.

"I swear to God, if I turn into a Samoan and start playing the ukulele I'm giving up."

The pair of blondes spun to face Xander, who was sprinting toward them in a huge Hawaiian shirt with Anya on his heels. "Yes," she said. "I would prefer to be transformed into something with power. Like a goddess. Do I have enough time to run to the store?"

"What the hell are you guys talking about?"

"Demon!" Xander shrieked, pointing as Giles as the old man finally freed himself from the car. "Buffy, quick! Make with the slaying!"

"It's Giles," Spike groaned out. "Notice that he's not attacking."

"Clearly he's working for you, Morticia."

"Oi! I'm no woman, Harris."

Xander opened his mouth to argue, but the Slayer nipped it in the bud.

"Guys, what the hell is going on?" Buffy repeated. Her eyes darkened, the warning of the rapidly fading patience of a ferocious Slayer. Spike had to shake himself free from staring at her, admiring all that raw power hidden beneath the beautiful, gentle valley girl.

"I saw Ethan. Costume shop guy from Halloween that year I became G.I. Joe.."

"Where?" Giles said in Fyarl. Buffy and Xander stared at him, mouths hanging open.

"At that ratty motel," Anya said.

"You fluent, too?" Spike asked. Lady Vengeance nodded, beaming.

"Wait, the hotel where Faith stayed?" Buffy asked.

"Uh, yeah," Xander said with a hand to the back of his hair. Anya seemed to miss the boy looking away from her guiltily.

"I was tired of having sex in his parents' basement," Anya volunteered. "It's depressing."

"Ahn."

"What? It is."

"Gory details aside, maybe we should go and make him reverse the spell?" Buffy said, looking to Spike.

"I'm in," Xander said, raising a hand.

"Maybe the Wiccas can help?" Spike suggested. "Get some kinda mojo going, make sure all goes well before Watcher is stuck as is. Have a feelin' Fyarl demons ain't great at the research bit and all."

"Sure, if you want to go see what they can do," Buffy said. "Giles, do you need anything?" The old man shook his head, covering himself more tightly with the burlap sack. "Xand, Anya, go keep an eye on Ethan, make sure he doesn't skip town, alright? There should be a pay phone on the first floor. Just call Giles' place if he moves, and then we'll get Willow to work on a locator spell. Spike and I'll head down there just as soon as we fill in Tara and Wills."

Buffy started back toward the watcher's flat without notice, and it took a moment for Spike to catch on and follow her. They burst inside the place, finding Red sitting at her laptop and Tara curling Wills' short hair around her fingers. The quieter witch jumped when she saw them, gasping and backing away a few steps.

"Willow, what do you know about demon-making spells?" Buffy demanded. It seemed like she didn't even notice how intimate the witches had just been. Innocent, but intimate for them, Spike supposed.

"Uh, I haven't done one?" Red said, her face twisting up. "Is that even possible?"

Giles chose that moment to enter through the front door. Willow and Tara shrieked. Willow stood, backing toward Tara and keeping herself between the blond witch and the demon. Tara took Willow's hand, backing them up behind Spike. The witches narrowed their eyes at the Fyarl demon in front of them and he went tumbling like Jack and bloody Jill.

"Oi!" Spike shouted.

"Guys, stop!" Buffy said. "It's Giles. That's kinda the problem."

"Giles? Like... our Giles?" Red edged forward as Giles picked himself back up. She looked him square in the eye. "Oh! Giles! I'm sorry!"

"Muh... Mr. Giles?" Tara only held harder to Willow's hand.

"Ethan's back in town. Is there a way to reverse this?"

Tara glanced sidelong at Spike. "There's a spell. To transform a human to a demon, or a demon to a human. I don't know if it works, but, well... I guess it might?"

Spike nodded. The girl had likely used any spell she could find to make herself human thanks to her wanker father. "Think it's safe to say it works, pet. Prolly what the old man used in the first place."

Tara glided toward the desk next to them, her skirt swishing around her as she went. She began sifting through the stacks of books. "Then there's a way to reverse it. There'll be an idol, to one of the gods of the hell dimensions."

"Not Glory, right?" Spike asked, panicked. "Or Glorificus?"

"What?" Tara froze, very clearly reading the panic on his face.

Spike knew he'd changed things, but he couldn't have done this. It was too early. The Most Badly Permed One had a specific time window to go home. Dawn wasn't even here yet. Couldn't be.

"Um, it might be horned? Usually they're all horny?" Tara blushed, her skin turning about the color of Red's hair. "I mean... um... like goat horns? You know?"

"Good to know, Earth Mother. You can do some mojo from here, then?"

"Sure," Willow said, glancing to Tara for confirmation. "Plus if we keep Giles here we can make sure it works."

"Spike," Buffy said. "Giles' weapons chest is..."

"I remember, Slayer. You want—"

"Crossbow, please."

"Buffy," Giles said. Apparently there was no Fyarl translation for that one. The disapproving tone wasn't lost, either.

"I'm only going to threaten him a little."


	19. Chapter 18

_Dedicated to Cloongarvin, RKF22, and RAGAnne._

 _For the next few chapters, expect some strategizing, some character-to-character revelations, some fun fluffy and/or smutty moments, and, of course, some imminent danger on the horizon involving one of our favorite (see: sarcasm) characters. Enjoy! ;)_

 **Chapter 18**

Spike had Ethan by the collar. Buffy had already signaled him twice to hit Ethan in the face, and a black right eye was beginning to form because of it. Spike was in full-on vamp face for extra effect. Buffy stood in front of the closed door of the motel room. She'd set her crossbow on the bed, facing Ethan, and now her arms were folded over her chest.

"C'mon, Buffy," Spike said, his golden eyes lighting up. "The old days I would've drained 'im by now."

Buffy sighed with a heavy roll of her eyes. It was like they were dancing, one of them anticipating the other's next move. She knew this probably made her the worst Slayer in history (what didn't, though?), but it was actually kind of fun. Plus, it wasn't like Ethan didn't totally deserve it.

"I don't want _you_ to have all the fun, Spikey."

"Since when do the two of you work together?" Ethan demanded. "Last I heard you were out for her blood, mate."

"You have been gone a while, haven't you _mate_?" Spike growled back, tightening his grip on the shirt.

"Ah, ah," Buffy scolded. "Spike, I didn't say Buffy Says."

Spike muttered something under his breath. He glanced back at her for all of a second before deciding to hit Ethan in the gut. Ethan coughed, hard, in reaction, doubling over. "Sorry, gorgeous. Hittin' him is just too much fun. Been too long since I fought a regular pathetic human. And you have this thing about me not eating Harris."

"One more time, Ethan," Buffy said, voice all ice. "Where's the idol?"

"You could search all night and you'll never find it."

"Okay." Buffy shrugged and turned to the nearest table. She swept everything to the floor, breaking whatever was breakable in the mess. On the back corner stood a white plaster statue thing, some half-man half-goat creature. "And Bingo was his name-o."

She lifted the statue and smashed it to the ground. White smoke, not unlike that stuff the Gentlemen's box had released, spilled out, vanishing to the window. Buffy picked up the hotel phone and dialed Giles' apartment. They answered on the first ring.

"He's better!" Tara proclaimed, sounding out of breath. "Um, woozy and stuff, but most definitely Giles shaped!" Buffy heard Willow say something in the background. "Will wanted to know what you plan to do with Ethan."

Buffy glanced at Spike. She knew he'd heard without her having to repeat it. Yay, vampire hearing. He shrugged, then nodded at her.

"Watcher's Council, maybe?" Buffy suggested. "Is Giles alright enough to give them a call?"

"I'll see what I can do," Tara said. "Why don't you bring him back here?"

"You got it." Buffy hung up the phone. "Come on. We're taking him with us."

"You know what'd make that easier?" Spike asked with a flick of his dark eyebrows.

Buffy grinned, knocking Ethan out with a solid right hook. He collapsed to the floor. Spike ripped the cord from the phone, using it to bind up the man's wrists.

"Whaddya know?" Spike said, letting his demonic face melt back into his sculpted human features. "Girl's figured out how to have fun."

"Girl knows she doesn't want to hear him yapping the entire way there," Buffy laughed. "'Bloody hell' this and 'I'll get you Slayer' that?" She flashed a huge smile, batting her eyelashes at him. "That's what I've got you for, honey. Let's get him standing and bring him to Xander's car."

"I got him, pet," Spike said, throwing the man over his shoulder like a bundle of laundry. "Just get the door for me?"

"Y'know, I'm the Slayer here. Carrying baddies is in my job description."

"Yes, yes. The door, almighty Slayer?"

Buffy muttered about stupid vampire under her breath, opening the door of the hotel room. Standing between them and the outside was Warren, that guy Spike had pointed out at the party. And behind him... some huge cyborg-y demon guy. The glowing circle in his chest was identical to the one Riley had inside of him during her Slayer dream.

"Adam," Buffy gasped.

"Well, this'll be fun," Warren said, eyes widening.

"Fuck," Spike said. "Buffy, move, love!"

Buffy was already rolling out of the way when Warren reached toward her. Spike tossed Ethan to the back wall, lining up with Buffy. Adam busted through the doorway where he didn't fit, blocking the exit entirely. "Hello, Buffy Summers. I have been quite eager to meet you."

"Okay. This is so, _so_ above my pay grade." Buffy's breathing was harsh as she assessed the situation. "Spike, remind me to demand a bonus after this, huh?"

"Buffy Summers?" Warren said, psychotically giddy. "I didn't recognize you. We've never been introduced, officially." He shook his head. "Class Protector... You're a legend around Sunnydale. And my buddy Adam tells me that's William the Bloody working with you. The world is just full of strange little alliances, isn't it?" His eyes wandered up and down Buffy's body. "The stories don't do you justice, though. You're quite the hot little number."

Spike growled possessively. "So what?" Spike said, his feet moving so stealthily that only Buffy seemed to notice him closing in on Warren. "You're building robo bimbos to make him a Bride of Frankenstein harem over there?"

"No," Warren said. "Funny story. I tapped into his radio frequency when those silent guys came to town. He and I have a lot in common. He wants an army of hybrids. I know robotics. I want to be stronger. Don't underestimate the synergy, man."

"Spare me the crystals, Yanni," Spike said right before lunging. He pulled Warren into a chokehold. Spike was about to snap the boy's neck when he saw the look on Buffy's face. She was horrified that he'd even thought it, he could tell as much. So Spike waited until the boy went limp, merely passed out from the lack of oxygen, and tossed him aside.

"I do not understand this repartee during battle, but Warren assured me it is part of the natural process. I think that our new species will be free of such frolicsome engagements."

"Does he always talk like that?" Buffy said, an eyebrow shooting up when she looked at Spike.

"Unfortunately. Think Frankenstein's monster, but a lot less fun. And also loads more thick."

"I do not appreciate this reference. I am a new species, designed by my mother, Margaret Walsh."

"Maggie Walsh designed you?" Buffy backed up as Adam closed in on her. Spike started moving in the opposite direction, toward the door, to give them more surface area on the patchwork man to work with, if Buffy had to guess. "Like, as in my Psych professor? No wonder she needed TAs. With a pet project like this, she must've never graded her own papers."

Adam swatted Buffy like a fly, sending her crashing into the wall. Spike vamped, jumping on Adam's back. His duster fluttered as Adam swung him around, trying to free himself. Spike bashed his fist against Adam's mechanical bits like he was trying to find a way to break them all.

"Uh, Spike? How do I kill him?" Buffy called, gathering herself to her feet.

"You need a lot more firepower, love. We just gotta get out of here for the mo'."

"I'm the Slayer! I don't run from the baddies."

Adam finally slammed Spike back against the wall, knocking him off for the moment. "You do not understand my mission. My mission would make more like you two."

"'Scuse me?" Spike demanded, smoothing his hair back over.

"Did he just suggest we breed?" Buffy squirmed. She felt naked. No, she felt like she and Spike had been thrown into a cage naked and told _Please have sex now so we can see your test results_ , which was majorly wiggy.

"I did not," Adam said, closing in on Buffy again. "Though that would be quite the interesting experiment." Spike moved without a sound toward the bed, grabbing Buffy's crossbow. "Warren is helping me with the cybernetics portion of my operation. Mother is enhancing the human portion at the Initiative. I was hoping that the small foreign man with the spells would help me with my demon research, but he is weak and petty. I did hope to see what effect a demonic transformation would have on a purely human creature."

"What does that have to do with us?" Buffy demanded. She assessed the room around her. Pretty much anything she could've used as a weapon she'd broken about five minutes earlier. Way to go, Buffy.

"Your vampire is with a soul, and has a human visage. Part demon, part human. You are a Slayer. Part human, part demon."

"Uh, hello?" Buffy pointed to herself. "Fighter of demons over here? Does no one read the promotional materials we send out?"

"The slayer power comes from demons." Adam turned to Spike, who had the crossbow aimed. "Does she not know that?"

Spike shrugged and shot, the wooden arrow hitting Adam in the eye. Adam howled out in pain, giving Buffy just enough time to bolt around him and join Spike in running down the steps to the first floor of the motel. When they got to the edge of the property, they found Anya and Xand laying unconscious. Buffy couldn't let herself think that it was anything worse than unconsciousness. She picked Xander up in her arms like he was a doll, and Spike did the same with Anya. They loaded the pair of them into the back of Xander's car. When Spike got on the road he hit 60 mph almost immediately, speeding them the whole way to Giles'.

XXXXX

 _To RAGAnne in particular, re: Chapter 17: I feel like at this point Giles is questioning his purpose in general and especially his place in Buffy's life now, and Spike having his soul and loving her throws the heat on that pressure cooker up to 1000. I always read at least some of season 7 Giles aligning with Wood to kill Spike as a little bit of jealousy at the stock Buffy put in Spike being her right-hand man in many things. I wanted to play with that side of Giles coming out earlier because of the soul switch-a-roo and the resulting budding relationship. I don't think Giles was particularly fond of Riley, either, if I'm being honest. Also, it gives Spike a chance to work out the resentment/distrust issues there. It's definitely a thread I plan to continue with as the story moves along, so hopefully it comes across as Giles having reasons rather than just having a 'tude without cause! :)_

 _I've also been attempting a little play with what Spike does/doesn't remember. I think that especially season 4 Spike was wholly apathetic to a lot that didn't involve his main mission of getting out the chip, so there may be things here and there, especially tied to the Scoobies, that were kind of below his radar, especially given how many memories he has because of sheer age, and because of the stuff that screwed with him after (the summer after Buffy's death, re-ensoulment, being tortured by The First, being in Heaven for an unknown period of time, etc.). At least that was my reasoning while writing it! Sorry for the small essay, but I thought your last review brought up some really interesting points!_


	20. Chapter 19

_For RKF22, Cloongarvin, RAGAnne, and my awesome guest reviewer!_

 _A little fluff toward the end here, some Giles and Spike stuff next chapter, and some smut the chapter after that. Mostly I'm trying to use these chapters as apologies in advance for the extreme anxiety I might give anyone after Chapter 21._

 _Enjoy?_

 **Chapter 19**

Willow had broken out the flow charts. All of the Scoobies, and Spike (Buffy wasn't really sure whether or not he counted), sat scattered around Giles' living room. Tara and Willow stood by the huge, oversized notepad in front of Giles' TV; Anya and Xander sat on his couch with buttloads of books; and Giles paced from the kitchen and back over and over, muttering about spells and chaos demons. Spike sat on the floor next to Buffy's armchair.

"Okay," Willow said, pretty much playing the part of teacher. "So we have the robot part. Warren." She pointed with the marker to the circle around "Robots" and "Warren." "He's building... tech-y stuff?" Spike nodded and she continued. "We have the demon-y bit. Ethan, but he's a total loser, so..." Here, Giles nodded, staring off all thoughtful and watcher-like. "And the human part, which is Maggie Walsh and the Initiative."

"What I don't understand is it sounds like they're making human parts there, like it's some kinda arm and leg factory or something," Xander said, standing. "I mean, sure, makes total sense guys would sign up for a secret military operation. The whole James Bond thing? Very cool. But why would they let themselves become mish-mash members of the monster bash? Wow, try to say that five times fast."

"It sounded like this Warren guy was tired of being a twerp," Buffy said. "Maybe he thinks if he's got, like, fungus demon arms and robot eyes he'll be indestructible or something." She twitched her nose. "Do fungus demons have arms?"

"Git's all about power," Spike mumbled next to her, picking at some of his black nail polish. "And doesn't get along with any kind of powerful bird, either."

Buffy imagined he didn't even think about the fact that he'd glanced at Tara. It made her a little queasy. Of all of them, that's who Warren killed? She seemed like the kind of girl who was scared of her own shadow. Buffy'd had her money on it being her or Wills who'd gotten the short end of the stick. Nobody else seemed to catch this fleeting look, or they at least didn't have any clue what it might've meant, because the conversation continued without ever addressing it.

"Alright. Give me a sec." Willow stared at the three bubbles on her chart, full-on resolve face in action. "Tara and I can take Warren, since I'm our resident computer geek? See what kinds of coding he's doing, that kinda thing."

Spike shook his head. "Should have Glinda on the magics end of things. She's got almost as much experience as Rupert."

Tara's face went even paler, her blue eyes wide. Willow shrugged and scribbled "Tara & Giles" under "Demons" and "Willow" under "Robots." "What about the Initiative?"

"Spike and I can break in again," Buffy suggested, standing. She was getting antsy just talking about it; she wanted to do. "See if there's anything else we can poke?"

"I vote no," Xander said from across the room.

"Buffy, you hardly escaped the last time," Giles gently reminded her.

"Fine, fine, geez." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, pacing. She saw Spike watching her out of the corner of her eye. "Riley? I could go talk to him. Maybe the soldier boys don't know about the human parts factory?"

"If you're talkin' to Captain Cardboard, I'm comin' with you," Spike said. Buffy shot him an unconvinced expression and he held up his hands. "Not sayin' you can't handle yourself, Slayer, don't get your knickers in a twist. But I don't trust the military types to play fair." He tapped the side of his head. "Clearly."

Giles sighed, heavy, from the kitchen. "Though it pains me to admit this, Spike does have a point there."

"Xander!" Willow said, practically jumping. Her marker went flying out of her hand, and Buffy, with the help of Slayer reflexes, caught it mid-air.

"What? What did I do?"

"Your military knowledge! You can see if there are any files we can use." Wills tightened her lips. "Bring Anya along for laughs."

"I don't want Xander to die or become part robot," Anya protested.

Willow rolled her eyes when Buffy handed her marker back. "Then don't get caught. Maybe Professor Walsh's office on campus has something?" Will wrote "Buffy & Spike & Xander & Anya" under "Humans/Initiative."

"It's getting a little late," Tara said. "Maybe we should start our secret mission stuff, um, tomorrow?"

Buffy looked at the clock. "Giles is that broken?"

"No," he said, adjusting his glasses.

"Time flies when you're plotting a military coup," Xander said, running his hands over his hair. "Oh man."

"Alright," Spike said, getting to his feet. He was watching Buffy pace, and the longer she did the more she felt like she was escaping into her own head. "We'll patrol and then figure it out tomorrow. Tara, you might want to talk to my buddy Clem, see if he's heard anything from vamps and demons. He's likely playing poker at Willy's most nights."

"Are you trying to get her killed?" Wills demanded.

"He keeps a pet kitten," Spike groaned. "I'm sure the Wicca will be just fine. And she can bring you and Rupert if she wants."

"Tomorrow, then?" Buffy said. The rest nodded. She grabbed her leather jacket and rushed out the front door, trusting Spike to not be too far behind her.

xxxxx

It was the third vamp they'd found by the warehouse. They just weren't practicing their safety procedures tonight or something. Buffy ran up to it just as it started to hiss "Slayer" and, with one quick jab, it was dust.

"Not playing with your food tonight, are you?" Spike called behind her, standing with his hands in his duster pockets.

"Yeah, well, gotta get even for having to leave Adam without so much as a bruise."

"I wish I remembered what you did to beat him, love. Truth of it is, I was on his side last go-round."

Buffy raised her eyebrows with a sidelong glance as they moved back toward the main part of Sunnydale. Buffy wasn't sure if she wanted to go back to the dorms because Willow would probably be in the room, chugging coffee all night to crack codes or whatever. She didn't want to hang out in Spike's crypt because stone slabs? Not great on the back. That only left Revello Drive, so that's where she was leading them. Spike followed without asking.

"You're not on his side this time, right?"

"Would I have bought you that if I was?" he countered, pointing to the red stone necklace against her white sweater.

"I dunno," she teased, picking up the pace so he had to jog to keep up with her. "I don't pretend to understand loony bin vamp logic. Mostly I just stake and run."

Spike held a hand to his heart. "Bloody romantic, you are."

Buffy stuck out her tongue at him and, without announcing it, started racing for her mother's house. Spike followed, gaining speed and outpacing her for all of three seconds with the duster swooping up behind him. Buffy giggled, then bit hard on her lower lip, pushing herself even harder to move. She outran him handily. Then she heard the shift of bone next to her and Spike was in the lead again, his eyes golden and his forehead all lumpy.

"Not fair!" Buffy pouted behind him.

"Gonna cry about it or gonna do somethin' about it, Summers?"

They danced that way the entire path to Revello, one outpacing the other and then swapping places again. Finally, when Buffy saw the lawn, she could feel all her energy shoot straight to her legs, willing herself not to lose. Suddenly she was tackled from behind, spinning over the grass as Spike pinned her there by the shoulders. She couldn't keep herself from giggling, her long blond hair all over her face and Spike's human features staring down at her with a wolfish grin. Buffy took a deep breath to calm her chest, the scents of leather and smoke making her entire body relax.

"Cheater," she whispered.

"Sore loser," he said back, roughly swatting the hair out of her eyes.

Buffy glanced to the second floor of her mother's house. All the lights were out. "Do you want to come in?"

Spike picked himself up, then offered a hand out to her. Buffy used it to pulled herself to her feet, brushing away the grass stains from her clothes. "I don't have to. I wasn't anglin' for nothin', alright?"

"Paranoid much?" Buffy grabbed his hand and squeezed to let him know that she was just teasing. "I just... I thought we could sleep. Battle plan in the morning over hot chocolate or tea or something?" She pulled her hand away. They'd only had sex the once. Well, the one night. This was new territory for her. New, scary territory. She didn't want to be pushy.

"Yeah?" Spike tilted his head, searching her eyes for something.

"You don't have to."

Spike grabbed her hands in his again, kissing softly along her knuckles. "Let's just not wake your mum. Fire axes and all."

"Of course."

Buffy looked to the tree she used to use in high school to climb directly to her bedroom window. She nodded to it and began scaling. Buffy didn't have to check to know that Spike was right behind her. She hopped to the roof with a creak that her mother probably didn't hear and edged for her window, sliding it open flawlessly. She leapt inside and Spike did the same, closing it behind them.

"You can put your coat and stuff in my closet or something if you want," she whispered. "I'm just gonna go brush my teeth and I'll be right back. Don't break anything."

Buffy checked herself in the mirror in the bathroom, taking care of her quick nightly ritual and shaking out her hair. When she returned, she'd half-forgotten Spike would be there, so he startled her. She closed the bedroom door, simply looking at him for a minute. All he wore was his dark t-shirt and jeans. His coat, the red button-up, and his clunky boots lay in a lump in the corner. Buffy tucked some hair behind her ear. She unclasped the necklace he'd given her, hanging it from the bronze jewelry tree on her desk. Buffy could feel Spike's eyes on her as she took off the leather jacket, then the large sweater, and finally her boots and jeans.

Somehow Buffy felt totally exposed, standing there in front of Spike in just a cami and her panties. She slipped under her bed covers and Spike mirrored her. After a moment of awkward staring, Buffy shifted closer to him, laying her head on his chest. She guessed the no heartbeat thing might've freaked her out if she weren't so used to Angel. She couldn't help cracking a smile thinking of how much Spike would lose his mind if he knew about that comparison. Spike held his arm around her, bringing her close.

"G'night, love," he said with a kiss on her forehead.

"Night, Spike," Buffy said, yawning. Before she could form another coherent thought she was in a deep sleep, and no dreams disturbed her.


	21. Chapter 20

_Dedicated to RAGAnne and RKF22 for the reviews._

 _Sorry for the late post. I was getting 503s all morning and then had to be on the road until about five minutes ago. But you'll have Chapter 21 tomorrow morning, back on the usual schedule! Hopefully you guys are digging this. As I mentioned, things are about to get a lot less fluffy very shortly. (Hint: It involves our favorite tin soldier coming for a visit.)_

 _But enough teasers!_

 _I believe the Sunnydale Memorial Awards are open now through September, and voting happens in October, so keep an eye over there for your favorites!_

 **Chapter 20**

"Ew."

"Xand, we hear about enough of your sex stories from Anya." Buffy adjusted the kerchief holding back her hair as they continued along the outside of Restfield. They were just skimming along the fronts of the cemeteries, since probability dictated there would be zip to battle on the baddies front anyways. "Can't we appreciate the lack of awkward verbal communication while she and Tara are getting snack-y goodness?"

"I didn't mean it like that. I was talking about the construction site." Xander threw his hands up in the air, fumbling the wood cross in his hand.

"Huh?" Willow tilted her head and Buffy followed.

"Oh, never mind."

"So, to try and erase that image from our brains," Willow said, playing with the sleeve of her shirt. "I've been wondering something."

"Uh-oh," Buffy and Xander said together.

"About Spike," she clarified.

"And again, I say 'uh-oh'," Buffy groaned. She'd been expecting to get a lot more crap since she was holding Spike's hand at her birthday party, and since they were always sitting together and talking amongst themselves during research mode and patrolling with each other almost nightly. But it'd been weeks since her birthday and nothing.

"He's from the future or whatever. Could he tell me whether or not I get a four-oh for midterms?"

Buffy laughed, and then Xander joined in with a "Ooh! Or what kind of job I'm working in ten years?"

"I thought you hated him."

"Oh, of course. Give me a stake and five minutes with the guy and I'm all about dust-formerly-known-as-vampire status. But he might as well be useful if we're not gonna stake him, right?"

"I don't think it works that way, guys," Buffy said. "He told me a lot changed already, so it's all unpredictable or whatever." She paused, remembering talking to him when they cuddled in bed together at night, or on patrol. She'd ask questions, of course, but getting anything more than a _Don't fret about it, love_ was damn near impossible. "He doesn't like talking about it much."

"I bet he starts an apocalypse," Xander said, pointing at her.

"Five bucks says he doesn't," Willow countered. Xander shrugged and they shook on it as they came up on Buffy's mother's house on Revello Drive.

"He's the one who helped me stop Angelus," Buffy said, absently staring at the living room window. The place was filled with yellow light. She could see Spike's shadow—she could tell by the slicked-back hair silhouette and the huge jacket—pacing, and then her mother—by her short, curly hair—enter the room.

"I still argue that was because he didn't want Drusilla to... Hello? Earth to Buffster?"

"Huh?"

"Hey, I've got an idea!" Willow said, jumping. "Let's go out tonight. I heard that the Thetas are throwing a huge formal party thing! We could play dress-up."

"Do we know any Thetas, Will?"

"Well, um, no. But, I mean, a couple o' hot mamas like us—" Willow tapped Buffy's arm with her elbow. "Who's gonna check, right?"

She was so excited and smile-y that Buffy couldn't imagine shooting her down. Research was getting them nowhere quick anyway, right?

"Yeah," Xander said, clapping Willow on the shoulder. "Hey, maybe you'll meet a tall, dark, and studly, huh?"

Willow wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

"Can you imagine her with a frat boy, Xand? I mean, she'd be all smart or whatever and they'd be all ' _Nothing can defeat the penis!_ '"

"Dear God, woman. Will you _ever_ let me live that down?" Xander stomped toward the house.

Buffy and Willow turned to each other, shaking their heads and giggling before following Xander inside.

xxxxx

The Scoobies hadn't found anything on Adam, Warren, the Initiative. Buffy and Spike's patrols had become absolutely uneventful. Red had gotten some Initiative junk off the disks Buffy had grabbed, but mostly it was name and serial number rubbish. The Earth Mother and the watcher couldn't get anyone to talk to them except for Clem, who mostly only knew that vamps were being told not to go after the Slayer. Spike would've thought they'd have gotten that memo years ago, but he supposed most of 'em were, like Harm, thick enough to think they could take her.

When Demon Girl and Tara went for fresh munchies around sundown and the Slayer, Will, and Harris decided to take the first patrol of the night together, Spike was left in the Summers house with Rupert and Joyce. He was convinced Buffy had left him there so that the older set wouldn't bump uglies, and if Joyce hadn't been around Spike would have refused to stick around with Giles. As it was, he and the watcher sat on opposite ends of the living room, Spike on the floor and Giles reading in an armchair with a hot cuppa that Joyce had brought him. Spike, restless, jumped to his feet and paced back and forth, itching to smoke but knowing he couldn't. Finally, Giles slammed his book shut.

"Would you sit or stand in one place for more than a moment? You're giving me motion sickness."

"Big house," Spike snapped back. "You could find somewhere else to play librarian."

"I rather think not." Giles removed his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Perhaps you could go annoy someone else?"

"I'd rather try and figure out a way to keep the Slayer from bein' killed at the hands of the Franken wannabe, if you don't mind." Spike snapped shut the notebook he'd been scribbling in, the one that held all the details he remembered from the years to come, and tossed it back into the pocket of his duster.

"Here's what I don't understand, Spike." Giles put his glasses back on, the glare in his eyes sharp. "You must know how he was defeated before. In fact, there's much you haven't said that you must be aware of."

"Well, I'm not tellin' you," Spike said with a scoff. "Haven't even told Buffy most of it," he muttered, finally standing in place.

"But it might help clarify some things. Clearly, the Powers did not wipe your memories. Perhaps you're meant to share at least some of them? We won't tell the others unless it becomes absolutely necessary."

Spike threw his head back. Couldn't tell him about Bit, on account of they'd all think he'd gone mental. What _could_ he say? "Your lot defeats Adam, something with the witchy bit, I think. I came in on some kinda ritual. Uh, Drac comes to town and Buffy kicks his sorry arse all the way back to Ponce-ylvania."

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Dracula. Owes me eleven quid. Anyway, this heavy-duty demon chick with a bad home perm comes about to tear open her hell dimension." Spike felt his hands start to shake. He bit on his back molars, but it didn't help. "Joyce dies," he whispered. "After she's sick for a bit. The demon chick turns Tara barmy. Buffy throws herself on the sword to save everyone." Spike pulled a cigarette from his pocket, propping it between his lips just for the taste. He knew the eldest Summers wouldn't want him lightin' up in her home, so he didn't. "Will brings her back, without talkin' to you or me about it first. She'd, uh..."

Spike's face hardened. "She'd been in heaven. It mucked her up, coming back to this life. She and I..." Well, watcher didn't need all the gory details, did he? "I went to get my soul for Buffy. While I was gone, the robot boy killed Glinda, and Red went Wicked Witch, almost started an apocalypse. First Evil came about, tried killin' all the potential slayers. Buffy took an option the Powers weren't happy 'bout to stop it, and I died closin' the Hellmouth." Spike pulled the cig from his mouth. "That about sums it up."

"I..." The watcher's mouth hung open. He seemed to be searching for where to even start. "That's why you've been so concerned about Willow's power?"

"Tell me the will-be-done spell wasn't concernin', Watcher."

"How could you not have told me this earlier?" Giles shouted, tossing his book toward the unlit fireplace. Spike could've sworn it knocked a brick there loose. "Clearly we're meant to prevent as much of that from happening as possible."

"Well, I'm not really up on the rules now am I? Don't forget, Rupert, that I'm the one who gave up a cushy seat in the clouds to help you all not make such a soddin' mess of everything, right?"

"You selfish arrogant..."

"Selfish?" Spike was shouting, too, now, and couldn't help an incredulous laugh. "How in the hell..."

"You don't think I've noticed that you seem to have positioned yourself so close to Buffy? You would rob her of any chance at... at a normal life, so you could..."

"Normal life?" Spike tossed his cig across the room. It landed, quite elegantly, on the mantle. "She's the Slayer. Normal ain't in the cards, mate."

"Rupert! William!" Joyce came storming in from the kitchen, eyes ablaze.

Spike took a step back, smoothing his hair over.

"I will not have this carrying on in my house. What is so important that you can't speak like civil adults?"

"Sorry, Joyce," Spike mumbled.

The front door opened, and Buffy, Harris, and Red walked in. "How's research going?" Buffy asked, looking between the three angry faces in the room. "Oh God. You didn't find a death happy prophecy, did you? There haven't even been any major earthquakes recently!"

"No, it's fine, Buffy," Giles said, shifting in his armchair. "Just Spike being... Well, Spike. Don't worry about it."

"Berk," Spike muttered under his breath.

"Yeah, okay. Definitely time for a research break," Buffy said, nodding over at Red.

"We, uh..." Red's eyes were on Giles', and she seemed to wilt like a flower at his stern expression. "We thought that, maybe, we should go to a party so that we're not, ya know, driving ourselves nutso with all the reading." She held her hands out. "Not that I don't love research. I mean, hello? Resident research nerd here."

"One of the houses on campus is having a formal or something," Buffy said, looking to Spike now. "Thought maybe we could have some fun?"

"Buffy, the threat that Adam..."

"I think that's a great idea, sweetie," Joyce interrupted, rubbing her daughter's shoulder. "You're only in college once, and you should enjoy your friends."

Spike smirked over at Rupert, who had fallen silent at one word from the lady.

"You could wear that dress from Christmas!" Wills said.

"Nah. Been there, done that." Buffy and Red linked arms, starting up the staircase. "I think I have a couple that my dad guilt-bought for me in LA."

"Oh, no, I have the perfect thing!" Joyce said, following them up.

Spike and Xander locked eyes.

"You rockin' the Billy Idol there?"

"I dunno. You going with the standard drunk uncle look?"


	22. Chapter 21

_Due to technical difficulties, Chapter 20 was posted late yesterday. Make sure you read that first!_

 _This chapter is dedicated to RKF22, YouthINaisa6, RAGAnne, and my guest reviewer._

 _Smut alert. And maybe some fluff._

 _Tomorrow... other things._

 **Chapter 21**

They lasted about an hour at the party. Or, at least Buffy and Spike did. Up in her mother's room, her mom had given Buffy her old prom dress, black and strapless with a long tulle skirt that made Buffy want to twirl in it. Her mom had finished it off with a ribbon choker necklace. All Buffy had to do was let down her hair and she was good to go. Willow and Tara had run to the dorms to pick up pretty floral dresses, and Anya had picked something short and sparkly. Spike danced with Buffy a couple of times until he finally dragged her out of the party. They didn't start talking until they were off campus.

"Uh, what're you doing?" Buffy freed her hand from his.

"Takin' you home?"

Buffy pouted. "Well, if you told me that I would've stayed! I don't want to go back to my mom's right now."

Spike chuckled, moving toward Buffy, crouching like a predator. He ran his hands over her bare arms, licking his lips. "Didn't mean your mum's place, Slayer. Was lookin' at somewhere..." He leaned in, running his blunt teeth over her earlobe. "Where we could make as much noise as we want."

Buffy shivered, digging her fingers into his red button-down. He kissed down the side of her neck, nuzzling the scrap of fabric serving as her necklace. "Okay," she whispered. "Good plan. Stellar plan. Very much on board with that plan."

When Spike pulled back the smirk on his face was all smug. Buffy wanted to call him out on it, but she didn't want to drag out being in the cold like this, either. She shivered again, starting for Restfield. She didn't hear anything before Spike's duster was around her shoulders. Buffy stopped, spinning around.

"Seemed cold, pet."

Buffy caressed his cheek, then took his hand. The pair of them walked in companionable silence the rest of the way. Spike closed the door to his crypt behind them. He walked over to Buffy, reaching into the pocket of his coat and pulling out his lighter. Buffy just watched as he strolled around the place, lighting all the candles chilling on coffin tops. It gave everything this soft glow.

It was still freezing, but Buffy shed his coat and hung it over the back of his armchair. Without warning, Spike came up behind her, teeth and lips working at the side of her neck. Buffy grasped to the chair as her middle suddenly filled with warmth and want. She spun, grabbing Spike by the back of the hair and kissing him, biting his lower lip a little. She felt his fingers working at the clasp of her necklace before it slipped away from her.

Buffy pulled away, working to unbutton his shirt. She only got two buttons in when Spike just unfastened the entire row in one quick pull, tossing it to the floor. Buffy stared at his alabaster, sculpted chest for a moment. She leaned forward, laying kisses along his bare skin. She straightened, kissing him on the mouth again, hard, their tongues pressing against one another hungrily, expressing the pent-up need inside of themselves wordlessly. She backed Spike against the nearest wall, pinning him there with a firm hand on each of his biceps, the feel of his cool skin in the cold space reminding her how warm she was.

Spike's hand dug into her hair and he pulled her head back, exposing her neck. Buffy only had a twinge of feeling too vulnerable, too at risk, that made her heart beat a little too quickly. Spike paused with his lips on her collarbone, glancing up at her. Buffy smiled, small and warm, stroking the side of his face. He worked his way up, biting hard on her shoulder, sucking the skin there. Buffy could feel her toes curl in her high heels as a small orgasm overcame her, causing each and every one of her muscles to twitch.

Spike smiled against her skin, then pulled back up, just looking at her. His eyes were so soft right then, looking at her with such affection that it startled Buffy, despite the fact that she knew well before that moment what he felt.

"Buffy," he said, tone very serious. He lifted her chin with a single finger. "I love you."

Buffy choked back a sob, kissing him again, not having enough contact with him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he lifted her, her legs wrapped around his waist. Buffy reached down with one arm, unbuttoning his pants and shifting them. He lifted her long skirt so it pooled around her waist in the front and flowed down the back.

She looked him directly in the eyes as she shifted herself, filling herself up with him. The contact finally felt like enough, so familiar and comfortable though it was only their second time. Well, their second separate time, since the first technically turned into about three or so rounds. It was only the first time she'd had a repeat lover, at any rate. Buffy moved her hips up and down, slowly, moaning. Spike moaned along with her, one of his hands bracing the back of her neck.

"Spike."

Buffy's fingers grazed against his spine. She felt fire shoot up and down her body as he spun them, Buffy's back against the hard stone wall. It scraped her just a little, nothing that wouldn't heal within the hour, but she didn't pay much mind to it. Instead she concentrated on how hard and fast Spike was moving inside of her, their shared rapid panting, the concentrated look on his face as he kept his eyes closed.

A bleach blond lock of hair had fallen out of place, and Buffy tucked it back behind Spike's ear. His hips still moving, he looked up at her. Buffy's eyes conveyed something to him that she didn't know she was quite ready to admit even in her own thoughts. With that, he let go inside of her. Riding the rhythm of his body, Buffy felt her own spasms, her split hot and swollen as she came on him. When they were both sure they were done, Spike detached, lowering Buffy to her feet. She braced herself against the wall, the head rush too strong for her to stand on her own quite yet.

"Wow. Like, major wow."

"That was..." Spike locked eyes with her and they didn't need to say anything else.

Buffy turned, facing the wall and gathering all of her hair over one shoulder. He moved silently, unzipping the dress and letting it fall to the ground. Soft kisses along her tan skin made Buffy smile. She stepped out of the dress and turned, pulling his pants the rest of the way down. Buffy kissed along his thighs as she went, removing one pant leg and then the other before finally chucking the jeans somewhere else.

As she crouched there, she took in the sight, took a moment to realize that they were both standing there stark naked, completely exposed. Spike pulled his duster from the chair, laying it on the ground. He reclined on top of it and Buffy laid herself on top of his body, face-to-face with him and giggling.

"What's so funny, Slayer?" He brushed some hair away from her face. "I knock those last couple of brain cells loose on ya?"

Buffy bit her lower lip and shook her head.

"Y'sure, love?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, grinning. "Shut up, Spike."

Spike rolled his tongue behind his teeth. "You gonna make me, Slayer?"

Buffy grabbed his wrists, pinning them against the stone floor as she positioned herself over him. She refused to let her warm center touch his cock, teasing him. "Feel like being a good boy now?"

He flicked his dark eyebrows, his blue eyes gliding up and down her bare body. "Never, Slayer."

She tightened her hold on his wrists, and he squirmed a bit under her. Buffy's eyelids fluttered, but she forced herself to focus, to not get distracted. Instead, she stuck out her lower lip, batting her eyelashes at him. Spike growled but stopped moving.

"Fine. Bloody bossy bint..."

Buffy giggled again, planting a kiss on his lips and releasing his hands. She kept kissing lower: neck, chest, abs, thigh. She hesitated over his cock, stroking one side with a finger. Spike groaned, eyes closed with pleasure. She ran the tip of her tongue over his sensitive flesh, and he clutched at the duster under them.

xxxxx

Spike had lost track of how many times they'd gotten off, lost somewhere in the sensations of his Slayer. He never, in a million years, thought he'd have this again. Sure, they'd shared a bed in those final days, but intimacy like this was out of the question. And it wasn't the rough shagging of her post-resurrection, either. The giggling, teasing, enjoying... More than he could have asked for. Now, as he could sense the sun starting to come up outside, they laid side by side on his duster, looking at one another, stroking one another's shoulders.

"You've been remarkably quiet," she finally said. "Is everything... I mean, you're not..."

Spike figured that once they'd started having a conversation she'd kick him in the head and leave, and he wanted to take as much time as he could to just appreciate her. She hadn't been that way in the three months since he'd returned, but that fear was always in the back of his mind. "Not what, love?"

"Regrets?"

"About us?"

"Well... yeah."

"Are you?"

"No. No, but... I don't exactly have the perfect history of tempting guys to stick around. As in, it has yet to happen."

Spike rested a hand on her cheek. Her body heat had been warming him all night, tricking his body into feeling alive again. "Do you trust me, Buffy?" He spent those next moments breathless. After the past few months gettin' comfortable with one another, he just had to poke the damn bear. He'd never learn when to leave well enough alone.

"Yes," she said, her voice soft.

Spike let out an exhale, honestly shocked at the answer she'd given him. "You'll never be rid of me, alright, pet?"

"You know what's sick? I actually find that comforting."

The pair of them laughed, melding closer together. Spike laid on his back against the duster on the floor and she snuggled on top of his chest, a happy hum escaping her.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Goldilocks?"

"You remember when I walked in on you and you were singing?"

"Uh, vaguely." It was something from that musical demon git's appearance in Sunnydale. Spike hoped she wasn't about to ask for an explanation. There was lots she wouldn't understand even if he tried to explain, and he didn't want to burden her with it to boot. It was his cross to bear, the knowledge of the future that might not even happen now.

"Could you sing something?" Her foot was tracing up and down his calf, a mindless rhythm. "I think it'll help me fall asleep. And you're really good."

Spike craned his neck to look at the Slayer, her blond hair spilling over his chest. "You're falling asleep? Here?"

Buffy froze, staring at the door of the crypt instead of looking up at him. "Is that alright? Sorry. I should've asked."

"Of course you can. I just didn't think... Anyway. Anything in particular you want me to sing? None of that boy band crap, right?"

"Whatever you want." Buffy yawned, cheek pressed to his chest. "As long as it's not too scream-y or anything."

Spike wrapped his arm around her and cleared his throat. "I died... so many years ago. But you can make me feel like it isn't so. Why you come to be with me, I think I finally know. Mm, mmm. You're scared, ashamed of what you feel..." He thought of when the Slayer had grabbed his hand and paraded him in front of her friends at her party.

Spike could hear her heartbeat slowing as he sung, her whole body relaxing against his. "And you can't tell the ones you love, you know they couldn't deal. Whisper in a dead man's ear, doesn't make it real."

Her breathing was evening out as well, longer breaths as she started to drift off. "I don't wanna play, 'cause being with you touches me, more than I can say..." That look in her eyes before... He'd seen it, once or twice. When she'd rescued him from The First; the last time he'd seen her before the Hellmouth closed on top of him...

Her soft almost-snoring convinced Spike that he'd done his part. With a gentle kiss on the top of her head, he let himself drift off as well.


	23. Chapter 22

_Dedicated to RKF22, RAGAnne, madcloisfan, and ElysiumPhoenix._

 _The next couple of chapters are a little on the shorter side, so I may or may not post two tomorrow. It depends on a couple of things._

 _But for now, here we go..._

 **Chapter 22**

Buffy spent that night in Spike's crypt, plus three of the next five nights. She stood in her dorm room checking herself out in the mirror. She'd swooped her hair back to make the commute a little easier, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to wear it down for class. Better coverage to sleep behind and all. With the weekend fast approaching again, Buffy was starting to consider asking Spike to spend the night with her here, or over at her mom's place (with him sneaking in through the window, of course). Between the nightly sexcapades and sleeping on stone (except for the one time she'd thought to actually use Spike's armchair for once), she was going to be one creaky arthritic Slayer before midterms.

Wills seemed to have gotten another early start, because her bed was already all made. Buffy wondered if she was a terrible roommate. Even though she wasn't around a ton, she still managed to make a major mess if her tossed-aside sweaters and boots and earrings were any indication. She reached over to grab one of her silver hoops when someone knocked on the door. Buffy groaned and dropped the hoop back on her desk. Too sunny to be Spike, Willow had a key and was probably with Tara. Way too early for Xander unless he was at work. Her money was on Giles.

When Buffy opened the door, it was not Giles standing on the other side.

"Hi Buffy."

"Riley?"

"Can I come in?"

"You're not gonna, like, search my room or something, are you?"

He smiled, all sweet and farm boy like. "No. I just wanted to talk for a minute."

"Alright," Buffy said, waving him in. "But I'm warning you now, I've got Intro to Poetry in twenty."

He walked in as Buffy shut the door. She wondered if he'd always been that tall and broad, or if getting used to Spike at her side just made him seem more so. Spike was so much closer to her own height, a better fit, and his movements were sleek, almost cat-like. Now Riley just seemed... a little clumsy? He sat on the end of Willow's bed, hands on his knees.

"So what does Professor Walsh want?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Well, I mean, you don't call, you don't write..." Buffy shrugged. "I kinda got the memo."

"Sorry, um... Professor Walsh wants to talk to you."

"Well does she have office hours after three, 'cause I've got classes—"

Riley shook his head. "She wants to talk to you down in the Initiative. In five minutes or less."

Buffy couldn't help the laugh, but she had the courtesy to cover her mouth. "She seriously thinks that I'm going down there, alone, and what? Let you guys get happy with the slicing and dicing? Forget it."

"Buffy, please." He stood, but he didn't get any closer to her. "I told her what you said, about being the Slayer. She just has some questions. Wants to make sure we're on the same side, that you're not a threat."

"Uh, excuse me? Look, I know you don't know me very well, but fighting baddies is my birthright. I've got more reason to distrust the big secret government agency knocking on vampires' knees with those little hammer thingys."

"She said that she'd answer any questions you had, too. But we have to hurry." He looked down at his hands. "She's got to teach a class at one, and I think you two have a lot to talk about." Riley looked back up at Buffy, his eyes all gentle and disarming. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Fine." She grabbed one of Willow's notebooks from her desk and opened it to the blank last page. Grabbing a purple gel pen, she scribbled: _Willow—Riley taking me into Initiative. I'll try to get us answers. If not back for dinner, Spike knows how to get in._

xxxxx

After the most awkward elevator ride down from the Lowell house, the doors opened. Riley and Buffy stepped out, her keeping an eye on him as they moved. The Initiative was way different without the chaos. The guys in lab coats and army greens were walking around slowly in the huge white space below Buffy. The lights were harsh and Buffy had to squint a little against them.

"Buffy Summers."

Buffy spun around and found herself face-to-face with Professor Walsh. "Hi. Um, hello. Riley said you wanted to talk?"

"Yes. Follow me."

Scary robot lady vibes. Thoughts of Ted made Buffy do a mega shudder. Buffy glanced at Riley on her left, who seemed totally at ease, so she followed Maggie down the stairs. Professor Walsh was scribbling something onto the clipboard in her hands.

"I understand you have some questions for me as well, Ms. Summers. I'd be happy to answer them."

They paused over what looked like a big aluminum foil oven. Inside, two green demons were laid out on tables with a bunch of tech-y gear and science-types all around. A guy dressed in all black shocked one of the demons with some kind of gun. The demon shrieked. It was a demon and all lizard-like, but Buffy thought about Spike being trapped down here, being zapped and cut open and who knew what else, and her stomach turned in an instant. "What's that?" she asked when she could force words out.

"We call it The Pit. It's for HST testing and re-programming."

"You make them sound like computers."

"Well, we don't give them pet names."

Buffy didn't even bother glaring at Walsh, instead spinning to Riley. Riley, oblivious, kept looking down at The Pit, watching.

"What?" he said. "I told her about Hostile Seventeen." Two men in greens come toward them, carrying those zapper guns. Now something in Riley shifted. He put himself between Buffy and the men. "Stand down." They kept moving forward. "That's an order. She's with me."

"It's alright, men." Maggie waved them through. "Agent Finn, step aside."

"What are you doing?"

Buffy could see the sweet expression on his face trying to suss it all out. She was already there. "You were never going to answer my questions, were you?"

"I'm a scientist, Ms. Summers. Experimentation is what I do."

Buffy's body tensed, ready for battle. She crouched as the first guy came at her, flipping him into Walsh and sending them both crashing into the nearest wall. She wasn't quick enough, had been caught off guard, because the second guy had zapped her before she could even think of hitting him. Everything hurt all over—pinpricks on her skin and jittery insides—right before it went dark. She could still hear Professor Walsh's voice as she fought unconsciousness:

"Finn, I want you to hit Hostile Seventeen with a tracker. Tracker only. He'll lead us to the others, and then we'll see which of them is or isn't human."

Behind her closed eyelids, Buffy saw flashes: Giles reading a book; Xander making a goofy face; Anya dancing; Willow and Tara whispering among themselves; her mother sipping tea on the couch; Spike right before he leaned in to kiss her. Her mother and Xander were the only ones who'd never been demons or magic-users.

Walsh was going to kill them all, after she was done poking and prodding.

Buffy gritted her teeth, willed herself to move. She could've sworn she felt a twitch in each of her legs, but another electric shock hit her and everything was gone.

xxxxx

Spike was pacing the floor of Giles' flat, clenching and unclenching his fists. He didn't know how the rest of her lot could be so calm right now. The Wicca set had come by his crypt just before sunset. Luckily he'd cleaned the place up some after Buffy had left that morning so the whole place didn't scream 'wild shagging,' but the moment they told him about the note the Slayer had left he pulled his duster over his head and made way for the DeSoto.

Now they were all just sittin' here. Giles and Harris were watching the tiny telly for any possible news on Adam or the Initiative or any of it; Glinda and the Mrs. were at her computer again, Red doing some kind of tech work that was probably not the most urgent thing she could be working on; Demon Girl was doing the crossword from the newspaper.

"It's been bloody long enough," Spike said. Everyone turned to him. "What, we're just going to let them do whatever they want to her?"

"Spike, wasn't it you who told me she's an adult who can take care of herself?" Giles made the most annoying pointed expression behind his glasses.

"Oh, don't feed me that, Watcher. Girl can handle herself, that doesn't mean she should take on the entire damn military."

"Spike, I'm trying to hack into their security system," Wills said, continuing to type away. "Shouting is not going to help me."

"She, um..." Tara adjusted one of her blond pigtails. "She thinks if she can get into the cameras we can see if she's okay."

Spike bit on the inside of his cheek, trying to calm his rage for the Earth Mother's sake. Just 'cause the rest of the Scooby set was thick as bricks didn't mean he should lash out at her. "I just... It doesn't feel right. Somethin's wrong, and I don't trust any of those gits far as I can throw 'em."

Anya smirked at her crossword.

"What?" Spike demanded.

"Your affection for Buffy is quite sweet."

Of course Harris would take advantage. "Ooh, Spikey," he cooed, turning away from the TV. "You're not jealous of Riley, now are you?"

"Shove it, Harris." Spike's eyes shifted around the room. Everyone was starin' at him, and not in a way he was comfortable with. "Well, c'mon now. Aren't you all about solvin' mysteries? Let's get on it." He pointed at Xander. "And I am not jealous of Finn. Christ, Captain Forehead has more personality 'n him." He shrugged off his duster so he'd have something to pitch at the couch.

Harris raised his hands. "Hey, whatever you say, Spike." He stood, brushing himself off. "I'll call their room again and see if she answers."

"Should you call Joyce, too?" Anya said, chewing on the end of a pen.

"No," Giles answered without a breath's hesitation. "No need to involve or worry her unless we need to."

Spike exhaled slowly, running his hands back over his gelled hair.

"Uh-oh," Willow said from the computer.

xxxxx

Buffy woke up surrounded by tinfoil. If this was a slayer dream, it was one of the strangest ones yet. She rubbed the back of her head, jumping to her feet and squinting against the way too bright lights. Her demon-y senses were tingling. She groaned, trying to see clearly, but everything around her was pretty much blinding. Buffy could hear the swing coming in time that she ducked, kicking out to her side and making impact without even seeing what she was hitting before the green demon hit the floor.

"Impressive," she heard Walsh's voice ring out. She spun around, but her eyes could barely open yet. "She appears to work on some kind of baser instinct. Perhaps she has a heightened sense of the air currents. Next we'll send out Hostiles 37 and 38. They're our swiftest, and..."

Buffy lost track of her voice when she took a blow to the face. She hated demons with slimy skin. Buffy's eyes were starting to find focus and she hit the creature with two alternating jabs to its center. It smacked to the floor like, well, a demon who'd just gone a round with a slayer.

"Is that all you've got?" Buffy taunted from The Pit, looking up. It caused her a massive headache with all those lights shining down on her, but she shielded her eyes with her hand and found Professor Walsh, still writing on that damn clipboard, with a league of lab coat people around her. Buffy was going to enjoy smacking Maggie Walsh with that clipboard when she got the opportunity. "Takes a lot more than two demons to kill a slayer, you know."

"I'm not trying to kill you, Buffy. I want to assess your skills."

"You know, you could've asked nicely." Buffy looked around. She didn't see Riley anywhere. Her gut seized up when she remembered the orders he'd gotten, to track Spike and bring all the Scoobies in for... What? Demon fighting like this? Only Spike would stand a chance for more than one round.

"Send out 37 and 38," Walsh called. A door in the tinfoil wall opened and two creatures stepped out, a bit like The Gentlemen but with scales instead of suits. Before Buffy could make a break for it, the door closed again.

"Well," she said, stretching her neck from side to side and holding her fists in front of her. "I picked a good day for a fashionable yet practical up-do."


	24. Chapter 23

_Dedicated to RKF22, RAGAnne, Sunalso, madcloisfan, Wolfman217, and xXxblacklilyxXx._

 _For those of you concerned, Warren will most certainly be dealt with. But he is in need of a few ass-kickings first, I think. ;)_

 _Since these two chapters are short, you get a bonus today!_

 **Chapter 23**

"What do you mean 'uh-oh?'" Spike repeated in his most annoying American accent as Wills simply stared at her screen.

"Well, uh, she..." Tara bit her lip, rubbing Red's shoulder. "She got into the camera system."

"And?"

"Uh..." Tara's face twisted up. "Major uh-oh?"

Spike stalked over to them, staring at the computer. They'd found Buffy. She was where they'd been experimentin' on him, fighting two squid-faced demons on her own. Nothing she couldn't handle, but the science types were observing from up top, which definitely did not look good. Not very many army-types, though, which was strange. Whenever Spike was in The Initiative, it was always crawlin' with 'em.

"Went to the answering machine again," Harris said from behind them. "And I—Spike, what happened to you?"

"Bite me," Spike said, trying to assess the best way to get in. If Buffy said the word, he'd help her tear apart the entire operation from the inside out. Gits deserved it.

"Spike," Tara said, and that got him to turn around. "You're blinking. There's a red blinking bug on your back."

"Is it a spell thing?" Anya asked, not even concerned enough to look up.

"My pseudo-army knowledge is telling me it's a tracker," Harris said.

Giles took off his glasses, walking over to Spike. He pulled at something in Spike's back so hard that Spike growled and felt his forehead shift in reaction before he could get it under control.

"We don't have time..." Spike started.

"They knew to follow you," Giles said. "They didn't just want Buffy."

"Well, then get it out and let's get movin', shall we?"

"It's embedded too deeply," Giles said. "It would take hours."

"I'm thinkin' we've got minutes," Xander said. "Minute, maybe."

Tara narrowed her eyes at Spike's back and grabbed Red's hand without warning. She chanted before anyone could even move. "Blessed Electra, cast your shroud. Veil the worthy, reclaim your gift."

Spike smelled the skin sizzling first, then he was on the ground, twitching and yelping as the thing shocked him up and down his spine. Finally, he was still, all his muscles rigid as he gritted his teeth. He couldn't feel a damn thing. Tara collapsed at his side, a kind hand on his shoulder that didn't quite register.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't 've..."

"Quick," Spike said, teeth still clenched together. "While I can't feel, get it out. Don't care if you gotta slice me to get it. A pint of blood and I'll heal."

"I'll get the knife," Harris said.

"I'll get the blood, and, um, some rags or something." The Earth Mother scrambled to her feet as well, running toward the kitchen.

xxxxx

After Buffy took care of the scaly fellas, she fought four vamps all at once and then took care of a tall demon with razor-sharp claws. By her count, that was almost ten, and all of them after her involuntary shock therapy from her whacked-out former professor. She was starting to get sloppy, could feel her limbs getting heavy, and breathing was becoming more of an issue.

Then the alarms went off. All of the alarms. The Initiative basically became a blinking red Christmas tree.

"There's been a breach!" someone yelled. "The south side tunnel entrance has been compromised!"

"I want Bravo team on the entrance, Charlie on the cages, and the rest patrolling for the intruders. Tranquilize on site; I want them alive," Maggie shouted.

The scientists were all scrambling around, away from The Pit. Buffy was pretty sure they'd forgotten about her. Before Walsh got very far, Buffy saw a swirl of black leather and a familiar roar. Suddenly, standing in front of her, was Spike in vamp face, holding Maggie Walsh by the arm.

"If you want revenge, pet," he said, licking his fangs and grinning, "now's your time."

Buffy found herself full of new energy. She decked Maggie, who fell to the floor in an instant. Buffy rolled her shoulders, looking for the easiest way up top.

"Feel good?"

"Totally," she said.

A rope came over the side of the tinfoil pit, and Buffy expected commandos to start sliding down it fireman-style. It surprised her when, looking up at the top, she saw Willow and Tara smiling down. Buffy climbed the rope, Spike right behind her. She tackled Willow at the top.

"Have I mentioned lately that you're the best roomie ever?" Buffy laughed.

"Yeah. I don't even try to suck out your soul or anything!" Willow said, squeezing back tight. A scientist was approaching them with a shock gun, but Tara tripped him and he went tumbling into The Pit. Spike kicked the rope in after him.

"You think he's okay?" Tara asked, her face twisting up with worry.

"Sure he's fine, love," Spike said. He laid a hand on Tara's arm, comforting her. "But we gotta get movin', yeah?"

Some kind of muffled voice was yelling at them. Spike reached into the pocket of his duster, pulling out a walkie talkie. Buffy tilted her head, mouth hanging open. "Nicked it from Riley's boys," Spike whispered with a wink. He pressed the button on the side. "Say that again, Harris?"

"Abort, abort! Franken-Adam incoming!"

Buffy and Spike shared a wide-eyed look of terror, and Wills and Tara gasped next to them. "Yep," Buffy said, nodding vigorously. "Time to move." They turned around and it was too late. The cyborg was barreling their way. "Crap, crap, crap," Buffy chanted.

"Uh, wiccas?" Spike looked over his shoulder. Buffy followed his gaze to the emergency exit. They'd need at least two minutes of running at break-neck speed to get to the only one not swarming with Initiative people, and that wasn't accounting for the non-Slayers/vamps in the group. "Know any good magics about now?"

"Um," the girls said as one.

Adam stood in front of them, smiling. Sauntering in close behind was Warren, who was whistling the theme song to _The Andy Griffith Show_.

"Guys, get outta here," Buffy said, putting herself between Adam and her friends.

"I'm with ya, Slayer," Spike said, moving to her left.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder. Tara and Willow stood behind her, clasping hands. Willow had put the full-on resolve face into play, total attention on Adam.

"Well, who are these sweet little honeys?" Warren said, delight in his eyes as he glanced at the witches. "Spike, you seem to be gathering an entourage of pretty girls. You'll have to tell me your secret." He grinned. "Why all the sour faces?"

Buffy could feel Spike tensing next to her, heard, as probably no one else did, the rumble deep inside of him. She remembered the look Spike had given Tara, the one that Buffy had caught, the one that let her know exactly which of them Warren had killed. One peek back at Tara, shoulders hunched and hair in pigtails, set Buffy off with the growling, too.

"It seems that mates grow more alike over time," Adam said. "Fascinating." He lifted one hand, light brown smoke puffing out. It covered all four of them, and they coughed, but that was all it accomplished.

Buffy and Spike exchanged a look and nodded. Of course, Spike did the exact opposite of what Buffy had wanted him to. As she lunged on Warren, knocking him clear over, Spike took a dive at Adam, not even making him stumble. Buffy shoved the heel of her hand into Warren's nose and his hands snapped to it immediately, the blood pouring through his fingers. Buffy looked back to Adam, who had his oversized hand clamped around Spike's entire head.

"Spike!" she cried out.

Little red zaps of lightning attacked Adam's hand and he let go. Spike ducked out of the way, back toward the chanting Tara and Willow. Buffy went to throw Warren over her shoulder, but Adam aimed his arm at her, a Polgara spike sliding out of it. She gritted her teeth and rolled on her shoulder, toward the others.

"Where is Riley Finn?" Adam asked. He flung Warren, who was whimpering, over his shoulder.

"What do you want with Finn?" Spike said, eyes narrowed. Buffy wondered if he was trying to remember something.

Something whirred and clicked down in The Pit, like a machine starting up or a really crappy TV reception. Adam tilted his head, suddenly distracted. "Mother?"

Spike shoved all of them along toward the emergency exit, and out of her periphery Buffy saw Adam leap into the tinfoil haven.


	25. Chapter 24

_Reminder: This is the second post of the day! Make sure you read Chapter 23 first!_

 _This one is dedicated to each of you reading it right now. :)_

 _This is mostly fluffy, with a character reappearance somewhere 'round the middle. Action-packed shenanigans will commence shortly._

 **Chapter 24**

They'd all agreed, when they got to Xander's car, that it was not a smart idea to stay on campus. Once The Initiative was on its feet again, assuming they survived Adam, they were way likely to try and trap Buffy again, and the rest of them along with her. Willow and Tara agreed to stay with Xander, who had extra space in the basement since Anya hadn't planned on staying over. Spike had offered his crypt, but Buffy was pretty sure that sleeping on stone, or even his armchair, would lock all her bones in place and she'd never be able to get back up. So Xander left them at Revello Drive, scowling at Spike as he drove away.

"I'll see myself home, love," Spike said, taking one of her hands in his and squeezing gently.

Buffy was sore all over, and almost certain that when she went to take a shower she'd just be one ginormous bruise. She winced, groaning without meaning to.

"You alright?" Spike asked. He released her hand and took a step closer to her, eyes scanning her face and then her arms and hands.

Buffy could feel the slayer healing kicking in already, but not nearly quickly enough. "Fighting ten or so critters in one night..." She braced a hand against the bottom of her spine. "Huge with the ego boosting. And also the need for warm, cozy blankets."

He tilted his head, his lips pouting just a little.

"What?"

"Your heartbeat's a lil fast. You comin' down with somethin'?"

"I haven't in a couple of years. There was this whole whacky flu and invisible demon thing..." Buffy shuddered thinking about it. "I just need a good hot bath, some scented candles, and about thirty hours of sleep. I'll be fine."

"Can I..." He exhaled, shooting a look toward her bedroom window. "Would you want some company?"

Buffy picked at her fingernails (God, she needed a manicure touch-up). The cold was just starting to affect her, since all she'd had on went Riley rushed her out of Stevenson was a thin sweater and jeans. "I don't think I'm up for..."

Spike chuckled, shaking his head. "We don't need to do that, love. I'll just take care of you, alright?"

Buffy's instinct was to snap that she could take care of herself, but Spike knew that. They were equal warriors, on the battlefield and off. So instead she just took him by the hand and led him inside, grateful that her mother didn't come rushing down the stairs asking questions when they did.

xxxxx

Spike had drawn up a bath for the Slayer, hoped it was the right temperature since he knew bugger all about bein' warm-blooded after all these years. He'd left her to it, deciding to come downstairs and try to make her somethin' warm to drink in the meanwhile. Before he stepped into the kitchen, he saw the lights. He paused, recognized the perfume. When he tried to back toward the stairs, he was stopped by her calling out:

"It's alright, Spike. I left my good axe at the gallery."

Muttering curses under his breath, he stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sauntered into the kitchen. Joyce sat at the counter, smiling behind a mug. "'lo, Joyce. Look, I was just helpin' Buffy get situated. I wasn't doin' anythin'—"

"Spike." Joyce rested her mug on the counter, lifting her eyebrows at him. "You don't think I've noticed that you've stayed here before?"

"I—uh—"

"I know I'm the mother who didn't catch on that her daughter was the Slayer until I saw you two fighting those vampires on my porch, but I like to think I've learned a few things since then." She smiled into her mug, watching the steam rise up. "You also sing the Sex Pistols in your sleep sometimes, and the walls are pretty thin."

"So... You don't mind?"

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink. "I wish Buffy could have a normal boyfriend. Have children, grow old. I know she already died once."

Spike winced, but Joyce didn't seem to notice, and she couldn't have known that his mind immediately snapped to the future yet to be averted, to the sight of Buffy at the bottom of that tower, to that achingly hollow sound where her strong, vibrant heartbeat used to be. Spike nodded, sucking in his cheeks. "You don't want her with someone like Angel again."

"Angel unnerved me. Stalking her and..." Joyce shook her head. "I guess I never really got past that whole ugly business. The truth is, I want her to be happy. I want her to have some kind of a future. That's what I told Angel before he left. She still decided to stay on The Hellmouth, and there's nothing I can do about that. Her friends are here, I'm here. Her work, as much as it scares me, is here.

"But Spike... if she can be with someone strong, like you, who's a match for her special abilities, maybe she stands a better chance than if she fights alone. That's part of why I was so happy to have Faith around. It took some of the risk away, some of the worry. It may sound selfish, but I want my baby to be safe." She nodded toward the stovetop. "The kettle's still hot, if you want to pour tea for the two of you."

Gobsmacked, Spike poured the two mugs of tea. When he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed Joyce rubbing at her temple. "How're you feelin'?" he asked, hoping it came off as casual.

"Oh, fine. I've just been tired lately, and an upset stomach in the mornings. Doctor said it's probably just stress." She shrugged. "I blamed the gallery. Didn't tell him my baby was out picking fights in graveyards at night."

"No..." His hands clutched around the pair of mugs on the counter, and he kept his face angled away from the eldest Summers' line of sight. "No headaches or anythin', right?"

"Not really, no."

"Well," he said, turning to her with a tightly wound smile. "That's good at least, innit?" He lifted the mugs. "Ta for this."

With that, he headed upstairs with them, setting them on Buffy's bedside just as she walked into the room. He'd left the lights out, but with his night-friendly vision he could see her perfectly: a fuzzy blue robe and a towel holding her hair straight up from her head.

"Have a seat, Slayer," he said, digging around in his jeans pocket until he found his lighter. "Cuppa should do you some good."

She smiled, bashful-like, probably forgetting that he could see her quite well. She did sit on the edge of the bed, chugging the tea. Spike lit the three candles on her dresser, the room suddenly all vanilla and lavender-scented. Buffy sighed, reclining against her pillows and tossing her hair towel to the floor. Her wet waves fell around her shoulders as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall.

Spike padded toward the bed, his feet bare and his duster tossed over the wicker chair from when he'd been up here earlier. He sat at the very end, making sure he didn't take up her space. She smiled again. "Comfy?"

"Much comfy."

Spike reached forward, wrapping his hands around her foot and tugging it toward him. She recoiled, eyes wide and heart racing all in a moment. "Well, there goes all that work," he grumbled, smacking himself in the face. He should've just drawn her the sodding bath and left her be.

"Sorry. Sorry. Instinct." She held her leg out to him. Spike took her foot again, eyes on hers just to make sure it was alright. He shifted it into his lap, rolling his thumbs along the underside. She sunk lower against the bed, moaning. "I need to get kidnapped by government agencies more often."

"Let's not, hmm?" Spike laughed, pulling her second foot onto his lap as well and working out some of the tension. "Anywhere you're badly hurt? I could get some ice or gauze and stuff, if you're..." He paused his attentions, waiting for her to speak. It took her a minute there.

Finally, Buffy shook her head and yawned. "Will you just hold me?"

Spike held perfectly still for a moment. Then, "Of course."

Spike detached himself from her, walking around to the other side of the bed. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and discarded it as Buffy wiggled herself under the covers without even bothering to de-robe. Something about how casual she was, the way she didn't have to put on pretense for him, made him feel like they were old marrieds already. The girl was like him in that way, he supposed. When they gave themselves to someone, they gave over everything. Saw it with Angel, and her friends. Definitely saw her do it with Lil Bit.

Once he was under the covers as well, she rolled over onto him, snuggling against his bare chest and letting out the same happy noise she did when she'd gotten a hold of anything chocolatey. Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hoping he wasn't hurtin' anything. He listened for the slowing of her body as she drifted off to sleep, the soft inhales and exhales more at ease than she ever was when awake.

But her heart rate was still abnormal. Even for her, it was too fast. It was slight, and he figured maybe the day had just rattled him. She'd never been his girl, and he'd never been hers (though he'd lost his unbeatin' heart to her a very long time ago), and he was afraid it'd all been torn away by The Initiative before he'd even known what happened. He'd check on her again in the morning, make sure everything was on the up-and-up. Might even make breakfast for all of them. He'd included the Bit in his calculations before he remembered that she had yet to come. If he didn't muck it all up, it'd be any month now.

Taking a deep breath, Spike let himself be surrounded with her scent of coconut and sunshine before driftin' off to sleep beside her.


	26. Chapter 25

_Dedicated to RAGAnne, RKF22, ElysiumPhoenix, and madcloisfan._

 _This chapter is relationship-focused with lots of sprinkles of plot/set-up in there._

 _Curiously, there's a fairly big person in Buffy's life who we haven't seen yet... Next chapter, perhaps?_

 **Chapter 25**

When Spike woke up, the room was bright. The Slayer had finally changed out of her fuzzy robe, had on a long skirt already and was currently pulling a soft green shirt over her head. Spike stretched in her bed, watching her move. She swiped hair away from her face, digging around in her closet for something or another. When she pulled away and started for the end table, she stumbled, only just catching herself before she ended up on the floor.

"You alright?"

"I swear I had my extra box of earrings around here somewhere..." she muttered. She started for the other side of the room. Suddenly, her face paled. Buffy clutched to the knob of her closed bedroom door, her other arm wrapped around her torso. Spike tensed, and when she didn't say anything, snapped to his feet.

"Buffy?"

"I'm—I—Holy crap."

"What is it?"

"I just feel all achey. And my head feels like it might explode."

Spike chuckled, though his entire body was tensing. "You have too much to drink last night, pet?"

Buffy groaned, holding her hand over her face. "Too early for snarky vampy-ness," she mumbled into her palm.

Spike took a step back. "What? You want me to go? Hate to break it to ya, but the sunshine 'n I have a long-standin' feud."

She glared at him, nostrils flaring. "Drama vamp."

"Dra—" The rest of the word was lost in an indignant scoff. "Well, Summers, if I'm causin' you so much grief—"

The phone ringing made the pair of them jump. The Slayer headed over to her nightstand, picking it up. Spike chewed on the inside of his cheek, finding his boots. He sat on the edge of the bed, shoving his feet into them. If the bossy bint decided she wanted him to go all of a sudden, he didn't want to sit there lacing himself up like a wanker.

"Wait, slow down. Who is this?"

Spike, tugging his shirt over his head, turned, watching the girl over his shoulder. She locked eyes with him. He could tell by the furrowed brow that she was trying to suss somethin' out. She jerked her head toward the door, leaving through it herself. Spike grabbed his duster on the way out, following her down the stairs to the living room, where she turned on the TV. The news was on, and in the top right corner, a picture of...

"Professor Margaret Walsh was found in her office on the UC Sunnydale campus today with multiple stab wounds. Police are still uncertain of whether this was a random attack or if she was perhaps targeted for some reason. They will release more details as they become available."

"Yeah, multiple stab wounds," Buffy said into the phone. "You think it's Adam?" She looked to Spike, her raised eyebrows asking for his opinion.

"Powerful bird, got in the way? Sounds more like Warren's M.O.," he said. Buffy nodded, her nose scrunched up as she thought.

"And in other news, Sunnydale Memorial Hospital is currently full to capacity." Buffy and Spike turned at the same time, mouths hanging open at the TV. "An epidemic has been declared by the mayor's office, and Sunnydale will subsequently be quarantined until further notice. Patients have been reporting fever, hallucinations, loss of balance, seizures, laryngitis, and, in the most severe cases, death."

"How does a patient report that they're dead?" Buffy blurted out.

"S'pose the corpse does that for 'em, doesn't it?" Spike said.

"Medical professionals are at a loss for the origin or type of illness, but strongly urge any citizen who may have symptoms to avoid contact with others, as this disease appears to be airborne. If you are showing symptoms, please call..."

"And you guys all have it? Huh. Alright. Yeah, let me talk to Spike, alright? Yes, he's still here. Xander, look, I—Hold on, my mom's on the other line." Buffy hung up the phone and pitched it at the couch.

"What was Harris on about?"

"You know how Tara and Wills stayed at his place last night to avoid the Initiative mess on campus? Apparently when they woke up this morning, the two of them could barely sit up without major pain. And now Xander's got it, too."

"Laryngitis?" Spike said, shrugging his duster on. "You don't think it's those silent gits again, do you?"

Buffy shook her head, chewing her lip. Her eyes sparked up, the way they did in a fight when she knew she was about to win. "Adam!"

"What about him, love?"

"The powdery stuff yesterday! He got it all over me and you and Willow and Tara. Maybe that made us sick?"

"And the wiccas passed it onto the boy. Could be."

"Oh God. Mom! What if I got Mom sick and she's in the hospital and—"

"Your mum's not in the hospital, love," Spike said. He reached into his pocket, fiddling with his lighter so he didn't correct himself with a _yet_ on the end. "She's just at work. I'm sure she's fine."

"But if we were together, even in the same house, maybe—"

"You didn't talk to her, though. I imagine, bein' the Slayer and what all, you're probably a bit immune to it, anyway. Might feel like a bad case of the flu. And I can't get sick. Since I'm the only one who had a chat with her, I doubt that—"

"You spoke with my mother last night?" Now Buffy's eyes were wide and panicked for a whole new reason. "What did she say? Did she know you stayed the night?"

"She's the one who made the tea. She was... more acceptin' than you might think. Though I don't imagine I'll be walkin' around here in nothin' but your bathrobe anytime soon. C'mon. Let's get you to Harris'."

"And what?"

"Get the witches on how to fix this. Gotta be somethin' magic or medical or somethin' they can do. You and Harris can talk about how to kick Adam's metallic arse."

"And what about you?"

"I dunno. Never was much use with the pre-battle bit."

"Maybe you can see if the demon types know where to find Adam, or Warren even? Warren strikes me as the evil lair type."

"Sure. Think I still remember where his mum lives..."

"Spike!"

"What?"

"You can't eat his mother."

Spike threw back his shoulders and rolled his eyes. He choked back the urge to call her daft, and a few other less pleasant things. He didn't know the Slayer got even bitchier when she wasn't feeling up to snuff. "He used to live in her basement? Thought he might've set up some sorta headquarters there."

"Oh." She winced. "Look, I just—I'm the Slayer, alright? Assuming that vampires go in for the kill is kinda in the job description."

"Yeah, well..."

Buffy laughed, shaking her head. "We kinda suck at this whole new relationship thing, don't we?"

"'cept for that brief thing with Harm, it _has_ been over a century for me."

"And Dru was a few fries short of a happy meal," Buffy muttered.

"And your one and only was the Great Forehead," Spike countered, more fire in his voice than the girl probably approved of.

Buffy's eyes widened with recognition. "Angel!"

"Fine. Angel. Big Puppy with Bad Teeth. Call him whatever you like."

"No! He's a vampire too!"

"Yeah..." Spike cocked his head at her. The wheels were clearly turning inside that blond head of hers, but what they were trying to get at was a bloody mystery to him. "Do you need to take a seat for a mo', love?"

"He'll be immune, too! We can call him into town to help."

"Like hell we can." Spike turned from her. "This ain't his Hellmouth anymore, and I'm not gonna just stand by and..." The image of her kissing Angel "hello" when Buffy'd been fighting the priest still stung inside his head.

"Spike." Buffy's small hand was on his arm. "You know I care about you, right? I wouldn't hurt you like that."

Girl had more going on upstairs than she let on. "Yeah, that's what they all say." Dru, again and again and again. His poor princess couldn't help it, wasn't in her right mind, all thanks to good ol' Angelus.

"Hey." Buffy's steely voice made Spike turn this time. Her entire expression was firm, determined, though her lips were starting to pale more visibly. "I'm not that kind of person. What, do you think I've just been with you because I'm bored? Or—or because there weren't any other options? Hell, might as well be with Xander, right? I mean, he's right there. And bonus—heartbeat!"

Spike shrugged, eyes to his boots. "I know you'll never love me," he said, something that repeated in his thoughts and dreams with fair frequency. "I know that I'm a monster."

"I'm not Malibu Barbie looking for her Ken doll, alright? I'm the Slayer, complete with super powers, a mega powerful immune system, and, likely, an expiration date within the next five years. Parker? Riley? They're not going to happen for me. And Angel..."

Now she was shrinking away from him, retreating into herself. Spike reached toward her, but didn't make contact.

"What's been our happiest moment, for you?" she asked.

Spike rubbed the back of his head, exhaling slowly and deliberately. "Holdin' you at night, when you're peaceful."

"Angel's happiest moment with me was after we slept together," she said, her voice small. "That was the one thing we could never do: sex. It's how he achieved true happiness. And that causes major soul-losage and massacring of anyone I love... and population of their fish tank. But you... You're happy just holding me, and I'm happy..."

She grinned to herself, lost in thought. "When we patrol together and you know when I want you to redirect a vamp toward me... When we're teasing each other in bed... How awkward you get around my mom or Tara... The way you look at me..." She licked her lips. "I thought Angel was all I'd ever get. The big one-and-only love of my life. It's not the kind of thing I... It's only been a couple of months, Spike. I don't know that I love you. But I... I do care about you. And I'd never..."

"Shh, shh.." Spike wrapped her up in his arms, his chin against the top of her head. "I'm sorry, kitten. I didn't mean anythin' by it." She was getting warmer by the minute, her silky tan skin starting to sweat. "If you want me to do it, I'll call him in. Let's just get you to where you won't be able to infect your mum, yeah?"

Buffy pulled back, smiling warmly up at him. She reached up, caressing his cool cheek with her too-hot palm.


	27. Chapter 26

_For RKF22, momnesiamom8828, xXxblacklilyxXx, madcloisfan, RAGAnne, Shellyluv34, and Jhiz._

 **Chapter 26**

Spike had packed her a duffel bag back at Revello drive, and Buffy had gotten herself all snug by changing into a pair of gray sweats. She was sitting on the Xander's pull-out couch, with Tara in a silk nightgown on the other end and Willow, in a flannel pajama set, squeezed in the middle. Anya had delivered a bag of Tara's clothes for them, leaving them outside the basement door and refusing to have any interaction with any of them. If Xander's phone call was any indication, she was freaking about the possibility of death.

Buffy decided, from the way that Spike had been gripping (see: almost snapping in half) the wheel of the DeSoto, after they'd used the tunnels to run by his crypt and pick it up, that it was probably better if she was the one who called Angel. Angel didn't know, after all, that Spike had his soul now, or that he and Buffy had been... Well, she could leave most of that last part out. No reason to provoke him, right? She explained to Angel that Spike would meet him in Restfield, told him about the quarantine and how he'd have to get into town through the tunnels, and, oh yeah, please don't stake the new boyfriend I haven't told you I'm with yet.

It was after dinner time (Xander had microwaved them each a bowl of Campbell's). Buffy reached for the fleece blanket over the arm of the couch offering it to Willow, who shook it out and laid it over all three of them.

"So how're you guys doin'?" Buffy asked, looking between them.

She'd missed this, just spending time together. Everything had been such a rush lately that it felt like they'd neglected the normal girl rituals. Of course, they weren't normal girls. Buffy had the whole urge to slay hardwired into her system. The pieces, like Adam. The pieces that Spike got—a girl matched for his soul, a Slayer for his vampire. Wills had her witchy part, and Buffy guessed Tara did, too, but they could choose not to do the magics, if they wanted. Buffy never got to do the choosing in that department; she was the chosen.

"Better than Xander?" Willow's nose was all red and she looked positively exhausted. They heard Xand retching in the bathroom again. "I feel bad that the mandala spell didn't work on him."

"Well, sweetie, it barely worked on you and me. You know," Tara said, drawing designs in the fleece blanket with her finger, "my mom had this, um, recipe when I was a kid that had, like, lemon and stuff in it. Maybe if Spike is, um, willing to run to the grocery store...?"

"Like a potion?" Wills asked.

Tara tucked her hair behind her ears. "Um, more like an old folk remedy. And comfort food."

"Have I mentioned lately how jealous I am of the Slayer package?" Willow turned to Buffy, raising her eyebrows.

"Hey, if you want to lose your entire wardrobe to scratch-happy demons and send men running in the other direction, be my guest."

Willow and Tara exchanged a look.

"What'd I miss?" Buffy asked.

She already was feeling enough like a dumb blonde with the sickness brain, even though she was only achey and slightly out of it instead of having a fever of 102 and zero appetite like Wills and Tara, or throwing up soup and stars like poor Xand, who decided now was a good time to walk into the room. Tara coughed.

"Miss? What was missed? Did you guys miss me?"

Willow laughed. "Yup. How ya feelin'?"

"God," Buffy gasped. "You look worse than you did with syphilis."

"You had... um..." Tara blinked, her eyes widening the longer she stared at him.

"Indian burial ground curse," he said, waving his hands in an x in front of him. His printed PJ set flopped as he moved. "Don't ask about it."

"Native American," Willow grumbled.

"He gave me syphilis. Ergo, I get to call him whatever I want."

Buffy glared at Willow. "What's with the diversionary tactics?"

"I... uh..."

Tara's blue eyes seemed to convey something to Willow, and she opened and closed her mouth without a word coming out. Willow nodded. Tara reached out and grabbed Willow's hand. Buffy shot Xander, still standing off to the side, a look of _huh_ with a side of _Do you know what's going on?_

"I swear, if you do any spells on us, I'm kicking you both out," Xander said, pointing to Willow.

"It's not... We're not..." Willow's red nose twisted up. "We're together."

Buffy looked around the room, wondering if the hallucinations had kicked in. "Well, yeah?"

"No, like.." Wills pointed to Tara and then herself. "Us. Together. In the most together-y of ways."

"Oh," Xander said, five seconds before Buffy caught on with an "oh" of her own. "But Oz...?"

"I loved Oz. A part of me always will, I think." Her thumb was rubbing over Tara's hand, keeping the both of them calm. Buffy recognized the gesture, like one of the million she and Spike shared when one of them was ranting or after a really tough patrol or something. There was no faking that, or mistaking it for anything it wasn't. "But I... Tara's my girl."

"Um, well, we love you, Wills," Buffy said, shooting a panicked look to Xander. Talk about outta left field. Had Willow told them anything about this? Or even hinted at it? It felt like they hardly ever hung out anymore except for Scooby business, and then it was 'Buffy slay, Willow compute, Xander do with the comedic timing.' Seemed like Xander was in shock, too. Not bad shock, just... "And Tara. Tara's a great girl!" Tara smiled, bowing her head. "We wouldn't... I mean, Wills you're like a sister and... And I think that's great, Wills!"

"Why do you keep saying my name like that?"

"Like what, Wills?" Buffy cringed, stopping just short of smacking herself in the forehead.

"I think what Buff is trying to say," Xander stepped in, "is that you'll always be our favorite redheaded witch."

"Yeah. And we're totally cool with this. Right?" Buffy said, sharing a look with him.

"Right! Totally!"

"Good. I was so... with the nerves and..."

"She gets an upset tummy." Tara patted Willow's hand. "Like before a test, and, um... Sorry. Oversharing."

"You've met Anya, right?" Buffy said, one eyebrow shooting up. Both the other girls laughed.

"Hey!" Xander shouted. Buffy's expression dared him to challenge her. "Well, someone's gotta defend her honor, right? I—" His cheeks swelled and he held a hand over his mouth. "Excuse me." He bolted for the bathroom.

"So happy that's not me," Buffy muttered. "You guys seem to have gotten off pretty light, too."

"Oh, I've been seeing singing cartoon birdies and blue sparkles all day," Tara said, pointing somewhere vaguely in front of her. "But they're kind of pretty, so I don't mind."

"And I haven't been able to get any homework done. Fuzzy Willow brain. Keep spacing out, and getting 'Row, Row, Row Your Boat' stuck in my head."

Buffy heard the shouting before the other two did. Willow had started talking about a history paper she really needed to get started. But outside of the house, Buffy could hear two men's voices, and they were not happy voices. Her vampire senses were going haywire. Then, once Wills and Tara paused their conversation, the voices were close enough to hear:

"It's a buggered up thing you did. How're you gonna explain to her that you brought Mary Bleedin' Poppins to the—" As Spike said "Slayer's Hellmouth," the door crashed open.

Buffy shot to her feet. In the doorway stood Spike and Angel. She looked herself over, the green cashmere top and the gray sweats. And she didn't even want to know what her face looked like right now.

"Slayer," Spike said with a nod. "Delivered, as promised." His words were clipped, stilted, and he didn't make eye contact with her.

"Buffy," Angel said, hands in the pockets of his long leather jacket. "How are you? Are you feeling alright? Spike said..."

"Yeah. Um, yeah. I'm fine. Hi Angel."

Willow waved and Tara smiled crookedly.

"Sorry, um. This is Willow's..." Buffy turned to the pair of them sitting side-by-side. Did Willow want everyone to know? Did she want to say it herself? What were the rules on girl-on-girl wicca relationships?

"I'm Willow's girlfriend, Tara. Hi." She cleared her throat, her face contorting like she'd just smelled something really, really bad—boy's locker room at Sunnydale High complete with random dead student bad.

Spike's eyes flashed with concern. "You alright, love?"

"Yeah, um..." Tara cleared her throat again. "Just, auras. Big, angry vampire auras. But souled." She thumb wrestled with herself.

"You don't seem shocked by the news," Buffy said to Spike.

"Yeah, well, any timeline I wager those two birds'd find their way to each other. Where's Harris?"

"I'm sorry," Angel said, holding his hand over his eyes and shaking his head. "Willow's gay? What happened to Oz?"

"Where's Harris at?" Spike said, quick to steer the conversation away from driving Willow over the edge. "Told him to be strategizin' with you."

"Vomitville," Willow said.

"I'm free. I'm out. What's the..." Xander stumbled back into the room, still clutching to his stomach.

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. Too many people—and way too much tension—for Xand's basement right now. She needed Spike and Angel to go figure out how to fix this so she could work on taking down Adam. She could do some planning with Xander, but she liked the parts with pointy killing instruments much better than the planning.

"So were you talking about Mary Poppins or have my hallucinations started?" Buffy finally said.

"Go ahead, Peaches." Spike pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting up. "Tell her what brilliant prezzie you brought 'er."

"Hey! No smoking!" Willow scolded.

"S'alright, Wills," Xander said. "It's almost like being upstairs this way. And it gets rid of the cat urine smell." He choked like he was going to puke again.

"You have a cat?" Tara asked, perking up. Willow just shook her head.

"You brought me something?" Buffy tensed. If Angel thought they were still a thing after he left her for LA, this was going to be wicked awkward. Well, more wicked awkward. Could this get more awkward?

"Faith."

Yep. More awkward.

"Faith?!" Buffy and Willow shouted at once.

"As in the concept?" Tara gulped. "Or the other Slayer?"

"The other Slayer," Buffy said, her eyes hard as she watched Angel's. "Y'know, the one who tried to kill Angel last year. And the one who almost did kill Spike about, what, a month ago? Two?"

"I handled m'self," Spike griped with his lips around the cigarette.

"She's trying to do better, Buffy," Angel said. His eyes urged her toward empathy, but Buffy wasn't exactly chanting cheers about the idea. "Trying to redeem herself. I can relate."

"Well excuse me if I haven't forgiven her for beating my boyfriend to a damn pulp."

"Beat..." Angel's eyes narrowed. "She didn't hit me with anything but the poisoned arrow."

Tara and Willow held their breath. Xander, still green in the face, straightened up, like he was getting ready for a fight. Angel decked Spike before anyone could react. Buffy saw Spike's eyes glint gold, but he controlled himself and didn't vamp. Angel was beginning to growl.

"You and Spike?"

Buffy tightened her fists at her sides. "Look, if you don't want to help us keep Sunnydale from becoming one enormo graveyard, just go back to LA."

"We'll talk about this later." He took three long steps away from Spike. "Why the infection anyway? Why not just kill everyone like they normally try to?"

"Buffster and I were talking about that," Xander said, nodding at her. "We've got a theory."

"We think Adam is trying to up the human body count, but he wants as many working parts as possible. So he made this mega disease to kill a bunch of us, but keep our limbs and stuff ready for the slice and dice."

"He probably can do without at least some organs the disease is gonna hit," Xander continued. "He could use robo pacemaker-y hearts and bug demon guts and stuff."

"And you haven't stopped him yet?"

"Been busy trying to not get killed," Buffy snapped.

"I'm sorry. Look, Buffy..." He took a step toward her, reaching out, but stopped.

"Faith won't be immune," she said. "I got sick."

"I'm hoping that if we keep her away from direct contact," Angel said, "the slayer blood should be strong enough to prevent it. And we could use all the help we can get, especially if we run into this Adam guy. What kind of bad guy name is Adam anyway?"

"Says the dude named Angel," Xander quipped. Angel scowled over at him.

"Xand and I'll see if we can figure out... some kind of weakness, or something," Buffy said.

"Any luck with the techno whatevers?" Spike said, taking a particularly long drag on his cigarette before putting it out on the wall.

Willow shook her head, her lower lip pouting. "Big fat lotta nothin'. Tara and I are looking into spells."

"But just ones that'll be helpful," Tara jumped to say. "Nothing big or... or unwieldy." Buffy knew she was considering Spike's warning about Wills letting the power get to her.

"Right. We'll get goin'. Try Warren's mum's place first, beat up some of Willy's patrons for info if that doesn't work."

Everyone nodded. Angel turned to leave first. When Spike started to, Buffy sprinted over to him and grabbed his arm. Angel hesitated in the threshold.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Slayer?"

"Be careful. Don't, like, let anyone rip your head off or anything."

Spike nodded. "You focus on gettin' yourself back to fightin' condition, yeah? You want me to stop by the store for anythin'?"

Buffy smiled, shook her head, and kissed him. Nothing X-rated, but not exactly chaste either, lingering just enough to breathe in that comforting leather and tobacco scent that was distinctly Spike. "And don't let Faith kick your ass again?" she added as she pulled away with a grin.

"Last time I bloody tell you anythin'," Spike grumbled, clasping the back of her head and kissing her brow before heading out the door. Angel, still standing there, seemed dumbfounded. When he opened his mouth to say something to Buffy, she glared at him and he left.


	28. Chapter 27

_This one goes out to RKF22, madcloisfan, RAGAnne, xXxblacklilyxXx, and Roscommon/Cloongarvin. All y'all who've been reviewing, favoriting, following, reading-you're awesome._

 _Next chapter, there will be some hashing out of issues between a certain blond Slayer and some vampire whose hair sticks straight up..._

 **Chapter 27**

Spike turned up the dial on the DeSoto's radio, bobbing his head along to "Holidays in the Sun" and tapping the wheel. Angel, sitting shotgun, immediately turned it off. Faith, in the back, leaned forward between them, an elbow on the backs of each of their seats.

"Can we stop for a burger somewhere?" she asked, wild brown hair falling in her face. "I haven't had a real bite since LA. Like, yesterday."

"Sure," Spike said. "If Warren's mum's a bust, we'll grab somethin'. Haven't eaten myself in 'bout a day." He failed to keep down a grin, glancing at Angel out of the corner of his eye. "Joyce doesn't tend to keep blood around the place, so I didn't get a drink in when we woke up."

"We?" Angel's eyes narrowed.

Faith inhaled sharply, throwing herself into the back seat again. "Yikes. Wouldn't even need slayer strength to cut the tension with a dull spoon 'round here."

"You should have your face covered," Angel said, turning to her. Spike caught Peaches' doe-eyed concern. That was interestin'. New redemption project for him, Spike supposed. "If we come in contact with anyone with this virus, you don't want to get sick."

"Yes, Daddy," Faith teased. "Hey, Blondie. Can I bum a smoke before I hide my face all good and proper?"

Spike reached into his pocket and handed her a cig without looking. He could hear her flick open her lighter and smell the nicotine filling the car. Her first puff she blew toward the front. Spike vaguely recognized this area, slowed down to try and find which of these bloody cookie-cutter houses were the one he was looking for.

"Since when is Buffy not trying to stake you?" Angel said, returning to the fight he apparently so desperately wanted to pick.

"Since I went and got myself a soul, I'd wager." Spike pulled over to the curb, parking the car.

"Hey." Faith tapped Spike on the shoulder, handing the cigarette back to him. "Enjoy."

"Awful kind of you," Spike said with a nod. He took a drag.

"Yeah, Buffy mentioned. Since when are you souled? They just giving those away now?"

"I fought for it, and the Powers sent me here to watch over the Slayer." He looked to Faith in the back, who was securing a red bandana around her mouth and nose. "The other Slayer. Buffy. Sorry." He remembered their most recent brawl, when she'd talked about Buffy like Spike would talk about Angel. He certainly hated being compared to The Great Forehead at every opportunity. Hated to do that to the Dark Slayer.

"Don't sweat it, man. B was here first. I'm used to being second string. What powers sent you to Sunnydale, exactly?"

"Powers That Be. Kinda like gods, I guess. Of the less hellish variety." Spike put out the cig in the ashtray and abandoned it there. "Mostly."

"But Buffy said the government gave you a behavior modification chip," Angel said, eyes intensifying the longer he glared at Spike. "Did they give you the soul, too?"

"Government gave me a chip, I got my soul, Buffy gave the green light for me to get rid of the chip, Powers sent me back with the soul but chip-less. Which I appreciate, since it had a surprise expiration date on it and all, complete with random spurts of aneurysms."

"I... I can't even begin to make sense of anything you're saying, Spike. You sound like Dru." Angel paused. "On one of her bad days."

"Listen, much as I love the whole Broody-and-Bad Boy, Batman-and-Robin dynamic here, I was promised a burger. Point me in the direction of something I can kick the ass of, huh?"

"Which house is it, Spike?" Angel glanced at Faith over his shoulder. "I'm Batman, right?"

"Of course," she said with a flick of her eyebrows.

"Oi!" Spike gritted his teeth, trying to focus. "There we go. 619. That's him."

"Beautiful."

Faith bounced out of the car before Spike had the key all the way out of the ignition. All three of them moved toward the house, Spike leading them to the basement door. He and Angel tilted their heads. One heartbeat inside. Faith grinned, cracking her knuckles. She kicked the door open, bursting into the place.

"Might've been open," Angel said, shaking his head.

"Don't think Cowgirl much cared, do you?" Spike made a grand arm gesture, letting Angel enter first. All three of them stood face-to-face with the sniveling little man, who was holding some kind of doll with a cape on it.

"Uh... Spike, what're you doing here?"

"You know what I'm doin' here, Robo Boy."

"The antidote," Angel said, working the sad puppy eyes angle. "You had to have kept an antidote, in case you got sick, right?"

"I—" Warren squeaked out a laugh. "I don't know what you mean." He leaned forward, examining Angel. "Have we met?" Then he seemed to notice Faith again, standing there with her arms crossed, wearing her usual skimpy top and leather pants. "We sure as hell haven't. You know..." Warren licked his lips, checking her out like a new doll for his collection. "If you need the antidote, I'm your guy."

Faith batted her eyelashes, removing her bandana from her face and sticking it back in the waistline of her pants. "Really? Gee, I was hopin' you'd say that."

Angel grinned, keeping his attention on Robo Boy. "This is gonna be good."

Spike giggled and nodded. This Slayer'd eat this one alive before he even knew what hit him.

"Huh?" Warren was on the floor by the time the word finished leaving his mouth. The Dark Slayer was on top of him, pinning his middle by sitting on him and his arms with her hands.

"Hope you don't mind bein' on bottom," she said. A malicious smirk played on her lips. "How long do we need him alive again?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'll give you whatever you want, alright?"

"Aww." Faith looked at Angel over her shoulder. "Baby, he's singin' my favorite tune."

"The antidote," Spike said. He loved bein' on the same side as Slayers. Made life so much easier.

"How do I know you won't just kill me after?" Warren said.

Faith laughed, hitting him with her right fist, and then the left. Warren tried to squirm out from under her, with the expected success rate.

"Fine, fine. Over on the shelves, by the TV."

"Boys?"

Spike and Angel headed over to it, the entire sodding thing cluttered with dolls and toys and cards and junk. "More specifically?" Angel growled.

"Between the scale replica of Tatooine and the zip scanner."

"Huh?" Angel and Spike said at once.

Warren groaned. Faith wrapped her hand around the boy's neck, and he only managed to squeeze out, "The orange ball and the radio."

"Ah." Angel pulled a set of science-y bottles from the middle shelf.

"How do we know this'll work?" Faith demanded, squeezing harder on his throat. Spike could hear the panic in the boy's heart rate. Good. Deserved it. Unless Peaches got in the way, Spike wouldn't stop her. Good way to make sure Tara stayed safe. Well, safe as anyone on the mouth o' hell.

"I promise. You have my word."

"Hmm." She released his throat, then backhanded him. "Boys, do you think that's good enough?"

"Faith, we should go," Angel said, ever level-headed. "We got what we came for."

"Here." Spike grabbed one of the vial things from Angel, heading over to the boy. "Open up."

"What? I—"

As he protested, Faith held the sides of his face in a vice grip, forcing his mouth to stay open. Spike poured the liquid down the boy's throat. Warren choked it down, then just choked. "Here," Spike said, tapping Faith's shoulder. "Quick solution: He tries to throw it up, we'll know it's poison." Faith got to her feet, her fists remaining clenched.

Warren stumbled to his feet as well, coughing. "See?" he said. "It's all good. No reason to—" He giggled. "No reason to go all crazy, right?"

"Blondie?"

"Yeah, Mary Poppins?"

"Can I hit him again?"

Spike shrugged, turning back to Angel to return the vial to the little rack in his grandsire's hands. He grinned when he heard the girl's fist make very hard contact, and the boy cry out.

"We don't have time for this," Angel insisted.

Suddenly, the room was filled with white smoke. Spike covered his mouth with the sleeve of his duster, squinting about. It took all of two seconds to remember that he didn't need to bloody breathe. He moved his arm from his face and vamped to see better, but it didn't help much. All he could make out was Angel's golden eyes glowing next to him.

"Faith?" Angel called out.

"Right here, big guy," she said, coughing.

Spike moved for the door, opening it. He tracked the sound of the girl's heartbeat, moving toward the door, and only left when she was out. On the other side, Angel had his arm around her as she held the bandana to her nose and mouth.

"Where's the weasel?" Faith coughed out.

Spike tried to get a sense of heartbeats. Faith's rapid Slayer heartbeat. The couple next door. So far as he could tell, no Warren. Angel's vamp face was hardened over, concentrated as well. "Anything, Peaches?"

"I think he's gone."

"Bollocks," Spike growled. Next time he saw Robo Boy, he'd have to eviscerate him himself. His Slayer'd just have to understand.

"Back to Xander's basement?" Angel said.

"S'pose so." Spike started for the DeSoto.

"Uh-uh." Faith walked backward toward the car. "I was promised some grub. Then we can go deliver the meds to B."

xxxxx

"Rocket launcher?"

"Buff, you can't always go to the rocket launcher," Xander said. They had a bunch of bills laid out in front of them, using the backs to sketch out attack strategies.

"It's effective!"

"But if he's military grade, don't you think he'd be immune?"

"Oh." Buffy sank back into the armchair, totally deflated. Willow and Tara were still on the bed, whispering over some witchy spell books. Xand sat cross-legged on the floor. "So no weapons? How am I supposed to kick his ass if a rocket launcher isn't going to get the job done? Mr. Pointy doesn't help against industrial grade steel."

She chewed on the back of the pen in her hand, staring at all their failed attempts scattered around them. Some of them looked like football chalkboards, with the circles and arrows and Xs. Some were just lists of ideas that they'd crossed out.

"Okay. Part man. Part demon. Part machine." Xander beat the eraser of his pencil against the floor as he thought out loud. "It's like rock-paper-scissors, right? Slayer beats demon. Man beats machine... Uh, everything beats man?"

"How does man beat machine?"

"By... um... building a bigger and badder machine?"

"So we should build a second Adam?"

"I... Okay, not the best plan. But... Maybe if we pull out all his wires..."

"It'll tremendously piss him off?"

Xander pointed at Buffy with the pencil. "Spike!"

"As in bleached guy or railroad?"

"The guy! We could send him after Adam. Just tell him to pull the wires and let him loose. That's the perfect job for him."

"Xander."

"What?" Xand stood, pacing the room.

"You just want him to get killed."

"No. Well, maybe a little." He threw his arms up. "I'm sorry, Buffster. You know how I feel about you gettin' all snuggly with the undead."

"Oh, remind me. How old is _your_ girlfriend again? While we're at it, what's the body count on her resume look like?"

"But she's human now."

"And Spike has a soul. So, what? If he gave up being a vampire, you'd be okay with him?"

"Guys!" Willow shouted, scolding them. The pair of them turned to her. Wills' eyes were wide and panicked. Buffy cringed. Had they really gotten that carried away?

"What if we... we could paralyze him?" Tara asked, taking a deep breath as she looked at one of the ancient, Giles-y looking books in front of her. "Could that help?"

"It'd definitely be a good start," Xander said. "Is it a spell, or..."

"A potion?" Tara winced.

"I could do that," Buffy said, nodding excitedly. "I'll face him, get, like, a crossbow laced with the stuff, and hit him... in... the mouth with it?"

"We can figure out the logistics later," Xander said with a wave of his hand. "Good find, guys." Tara smiled and Willow sighed. "Uh-oh. What's that about?"

"Well, it's probably going to work against the demon-y and human-y bits," Wills said. "We just... spellwork against machines is a little... untested? New territory?"

"Wasn't Miss Calendar a techno pagan?" Buffy said. "Or was that part of her 'I'm totally not a gypsy curse person' cover?"

"No, yeah, she was. When we get back to campus, I can look online, see if I can get in touch with any of them, what they might know."

Xander shrieked.

"What?" Buffy jumped to her feet, fists clenched.

"Clown! On the stairs! Clown on the stairs!" He was waving wildly.

"Hallucinations," Tara whispered.

A knock came at the door to the outside, followed by two vampires and the second Slayer walking in.

"Honey, you're home," Buffy said. She smirked.

"What's wrong with Harris?" Spike jerked his head toward Xander, still staring at the staircase, petrified.

"He needs an antidote, post-hasty," Buffy said. "You guys find Warren?"

Faith flexed her fingers. "Yep."

"Is he..."

"He escaped," Angel said. "But here." He extended a little plastic rack with vials full of gray liquid-y stuff.

"You... shouldn't... have?"

"Antidote?" Willow wagered. The vamps nodded.

"There's not enough there for everyone," Buffy said. "There's not enough for everyone in this room." Xander moved to the staircase, shouting something about being a creep. Her eyes found the empty glass Willow had kept next to the pull-out couch. "Water supply?"

"Put it in the water supply, get it to everyone. Bloody brilliant."

"Oh!" Faith snapped her fingers. "See Ronnie up at the mayor's office. He'll be able to help."

"Ronnie?" Angel asked.

"Yeah. Used to work for Wilkins. I think he was human, probably still works there." She chewed on her thumb nail. "I mean, Ronnie? Couldn't of been a demon right?"

"Save a little," Wills said. "Maybe one vial. Bring it to a doctor at the hospital, so they can copy it and make more, just in case."

"Good, yeah. I'll get right on that," Angel said. "Buffy, you want to come with me?"

Buffy's stomach dropped, though she wasn't sure why. Angel had on that same expression that he did when he was about to break up with her, and tell her he was leaving town. But those were givens now, way of the past. Spike looked nervous.

"Sure," Buffy said. "Spike, can you keep Xand from hurting himself until we get back?"

"Absolutely, love."

Buffy kissed him on the cheek as she passed on her way out.

"I'm still starvin'. Anyone got somethin' to eat around here?" Faith asked.

Tara offered up an open bag of corn chips as Angel and Buffy closed the door behind them.


	29. Chapter 28

_This is dedicated to Shellyluv34, Cloongarvin, RKF22, ElysiumPhoenix, madcloisfan, and RAGAnne. It's really lovely to know how much you guys are all enjoying this, and the reviews are so appreciated._

 _The next chapter is going to take us a couple of weeks into the future. Some bits of forward motion, a heart-to-heart, and maybe a bit o' smut on the horizon? Stay tuned! ;)_

 **Chapter 28**

They did find that Ronnie guy. Buffy hadn't gotten any baddie vibes off of him. Angel whispered to her that he had a regular, human guy heartbeat and confirmed it, and they handed over all but one of the vials. Angel promised he'd leave it at the hospital on his way out of town with Faith. They were walking, side-by-side, back to Xander's. He kept doing that opening his mouth but not saying things thing, and finally Buffy just said something herself:

"How's LA been?" There. Easy, safe question. Talking shop, probably. Score one on the maturity board, Buffy.

Angel kept his face angled downward as they walked. "You know, the usual. Vampires, demons. Cordy was pregnant with demon spawn, for a minute there."

"Excuse me, what?" Buffy didn't know if she was supposed to laugh, but she really couldn't help herself. "Cordy? Pregnant? With babies of the demonic variety?"

Angel shrugged. "Some hack photographer. Wesley and I undid it."

"I... Wow."

"How about you? How's the ol' Hellmouth?"

"Fine. Um..." Alright, Buffy. Don't poke the bear. Don't mention Spike. "Um, Willow's gay! Or swings both ways? She didn't really make that especially clear." Her nose wrinkled up. Smooth one, Summers.

"And this Adam guy? You don't need my help, do you?"

Buffy bit down on her molars, swallowing the first words that wanted to fly out of her mouth, something in the realm of _You're the one who wanted to leave me and get outta town, buddy_. "We're fine. We can handle it. There's, what, seven of us? Including a slayer and a couple of badass witches. We'll deal." She wrapped her arms around herself. This walk hadn't seemed so long the first time around. Suddenly it felt like forever.

"Oh, here." Angel shrugged off his leather jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Thanks."

Buffy kept it on, because he _was_ trying. She remembered a night in Restfield when Spike had put his duster on her, how she actually had been cold because she was in that dress she'd worn to the formal and Spike could tell without her saying a word about it. Buffy missed the leather laced with smoke scent. Something about the light weight and clean smell of Angel's jacket just... didn't quite fit anymore.

"So I called Giles earlier," Angel said.

"Yeah? Could you hear him polishing his glasses?" Buffy giggled.

"What?" Angel tilted his head at her.

"Nothing." Buffy cleared her throat. "What good did that watcher o' mine have to say?"

"He said your mother and Anya were still at his place, both doing well. And, uh, apparently they have him watching _Footloose._ "

Buffy grinned as she could see Xander's house. "I bet Anya'll be glad to be able to see Xand again without worrying about dying." Just a few more steps and she'd be back with all her friends, able to catch some sleep.

"Giles and I... Buffy, we also talked about you."

She looked him over. Tortured shoulder hunch. So not in the realm of good. "Uh-huh. What, did he tell you I'm taking a poetry class?"

"No, about... You're taking a poetry class?"

"Angel, focus?"

He sighed. "It's about Spike, Buffy."

"Of course it is."

"Please just listen to me."

"Fine. Tell me what decision you and my watcher came to about my relationship status." She waved toward herself like she was expecting a demon to lunge at her. "Come on. Let's hear it."

"Giles said that the Powers brought Spike back here, from the future or something? I tried to get some info out of Spike, but he sounded as crazy as Dru. I think Giles knows more about it than he let on."

"Willow can't go power-drunk with the wicca stuff and I can't get myself killed in the next couple of years. It's not that huge."

"He told me that."

Buffy's spine straightened, Angel's jacket accidentally slipping from her slender shoulders. "You think he knows more? No, Spike... Spike would've told me... before he..."

"Yeah, he's so great about being forthcoming."

"At least he doesn't make decisions for me without talking to me first," she snapped. Whoops. Mature Buffy was off taking a snooze somewhere. It was too late at night for this talk, especially when she was feeling pretty much like crap. Not vomiting and seeing dancing pink elephants like crap, but still... "Sorry."

"Look, I talked to Giles. And neither one of us really knows if... Well, I mean..."

"Angel, what?"

"I don't think you should be with him. It's _Spike_."

"Kinda caught his name, yeah." Buffy grabbed Angel's jacket from the ground but didn't put it back on herself.

"He loves Drusilla. This... He's just trying to hurt you. I told him, once... well, Angelus did... that the only way to hurt you was to love you. What if it's not the Powers that sent him back? What if it was something like The First Evil?"

"And Giles seriously bought that?"

"He thinks it was the Powers. But he thinks Spike is being entirely selfish. Buffy, I know you. I know how much you care about—about everyone. Been on the receiving end of it myself." He smiled, but it was small and sad and a little disarming. "Spike doesn't care about them. Your friends, any of them. Whatever this is, he... He's not right for you."

"Oh, yes. This from the boyfriend who tortured people I care about and killed my teacher and... and... my best friend's goldfish!"

"That's my point. You deserve better than that."

"Spike _is_ better than that. He's not Angelus."

"Anyway," Angel said, shaking his head to dismiss her most recent words, "last time I checked, you were in the market for a boyfriend with a heartbeat."

"Last time I checked, the last two boys who had heartbeats were..." Buffy counted off on her fingers: "Boy the First, a scumbag one night stand, and Boy the Second, a farm boy by day, Private Ryan by night. Besides, Spike has a soul now."

"I did it first, you know," he mumbled. "The whole having a soul thing..."

"Oh my God, are you twelve?" Buffy handed Angel his jacket back. "Look, here's the thing. Spike's been around, helping me, helping my friends. You're the one who wanted to go off to LA and play the big noble hero. Which is fine. The sacred duty thing? I'm totally with the getting it. But you can't just come back into town and tell me I'm doing it wrong."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Buffy reached out and grabbed Angel's hand, squeezing it briefly. "I can take Spike in a fight."

"That's not what I meant."

Buffy removed her hand from his. "I know. But if he hurts me, I take comfort in the fact that I can kick his ass." She blinked away the stinging in her eyes. Buffy thought back to earlier that night, to how Willow had said some part of her would always love Oz, a little.

"Angel, I get it. You want to protect me. It's sweet, but... I'm not sixteen anymore. And I'm the Slayer. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." She didn't really appreciate Giles talking behind her back to Angel, like they couldn't have a conversation themselves if he was wigging about the whole thing. She wiped at the corners of her eyes, sniffling. "Can we please just let this go?"

Angel's face hardened over, but he didn't share any more that was on his mind about Spike. "You're _sure_ you don't need help with Adam?"

"Totally sure." They continued the rest of the way toward the house. "And if I do need the help, I promise I'll call. They still have phones in LA, right?"

That was enough to get a smile out of Angel. He pulled his jacket back on as Buffy opened the basement door. Willow and Tara jumped up from the pull-out couch. Faith was holding a glass of water, and offering it to Xander, who was muttering to himself.

"It worked!" Wills said.

"Boy won't take his tonic," Spike grumbled. Buffy only just noticed the blond vampire standing in the corner of the room, mostly concealed in the shadows and his dark duster. He was dragging on a cigarette, and Buffy saw about half a dozen cigarette butts on the floor under him.

"I've got it," Tara said, standing. She kept her head lowered, gently taking the glass from Faith. "Xander? I made you a potion. Makes all the clowns go away," she said.

"Sweet merciful Zeus." Xand took the glass without hesitating and chugged the entire thing at once.

"Geez. And here I was ready to knock him out and force feed 'im." Faith laughed. "Angel, you good to go, man?"

"Yeah, I think so."

He wouldn't make eye contact with anyone; neither would Spike. Buffy rolled her eyes. She knew probably the two most immature vamps ever to walk into Sunnydale. Which was impressive, since she was pretty sure they were around for the Industrial Revolution.

Faith came up to Buffy, her thumbs in the waistband of her leather pants. "B, it's been real."

"Yeah, you didn't even kill anyone this time or anything," Buffy said. She grinned and Faith returned it. "Didn't even try to kill me. Bonus!"

"Well, I mean, with the slayer blood and all, we're practically sisters. Probably in poor taste to try and kill you."

"Way tacky."

Faith glanced over her shoulder. "Hey, Billy Idol." Spike looked up. "Sorry I kicked your ass the last time I was in town."

"Hardly," Spike laughed. "I took it easy on you, Mary Poppins."

"Seriously. What's with calling her Mary Poppins?" Buffy interrupted.

Faith winked. "I'm a regular ball of sunshine, B!"

"You'll be okay, right?" Buffy felt some kind of Slayer-ly responsibility, to make sure that Faith wasn't on the loose doing evil things. "Are you going back with Angel?"

"Yeah. He said he could use the help, plus it's a paycheck."

"What?" Buffy squeaked, turning to Angel. Her entire expression flared with accusation. "That's a better deal than I got with the Watcher's Council!"

"This, right here? Why we need a union." Faith, without warning, grabbed Buffy by the back of the neck and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about me," she said, heading out the door. "You know I'll be five-by-five."

Angel nodded to Buffy and left after Faith.

"Five what by five what?" Tara asked.

"Nobody knows," Willow said.

"Spike, c'mon." Buffy was already heading out the door. "We should go pick my mom up from Giles' and take her home."


	30. Chapter 29

_Dedicated to madcloisfan, RKF22, RAGAnne, Cloongarvin, and xXxblacklilyxXx._

 _Next chapter is much more firmly planted in smuts-ville. (Consider it a thank you for being such amazing and loyal readers of this fic.) Next chapter may or may not also have a Buffy realization going on..._

 **Chapter 29**

It was the middle of March. Xander had finally left work for the day and came to Buffy and Willow's room in Stevenson, as agreed. The girls supplied the munchies; he supplied the rental. Of course he brought Rocky 45 or something.

Just when Willow was pouting that he hadn't brought _Steel Magnolias,_ the phone rang. Buffy picked it up. Giles sounded gun-to-his-head scary when he told her she had to come over at once. She'd asked if anything was wrong and he said that she'd have to tell William the tea shipment was delayed. Giles talking about Spike and tea? Had to be code for something. Something so not of the good. She grabbed Mr. Pointy and only hesitated long enough to tell Willow and Xander to check up on them in twenty.

As Buffy approached Giles' house, she noticed that the lights were all turned on. The door wasn't broken down, so—good? But... uh-oh. A bunch of stuffy-looking old dudes in tweed in the living room. Buffy fit her stake into her waistband, opening Giles' front door without announcing herself by knocking. Everyone in the room turned to her, and Buffy suddenly felt like she did when Snyder would look her way.

"Buffy," Giles smiled. His hair was all ruffled and his glasses were off.

"Ms. Summers."

"Quentin Travers." Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Didn't I tell you to stay on your side of the world? I believe my exact words were.." She brightened up, slapping on a huge fake smile. "'Bite me?' Ringing any bells here? You know, you _still_ sent me a watcher after that. Dude was totally useless, by the way." Buffy managed, by channeling it into some serious glaring, to force down the rage about them almost letting Angel die, and to keep herself from mentioning Spike at all.

Travers was sitting at Giles' desk like he owned the place, with a folder and some official-looking papers in front of him. Goody! Her permanent record. "We came to assess Mr. Giles' handle of the epidemic and quarantine situation."

"That was, like, two weeks ago. And anyway, phones?"

"They also, it seems," Giles said, his voice and smile both stiff, "want to make me an offer. I decided it would perhaps be best if you were here."

"We would not be against taking you back into the fold," Travers said. He'd only gotten more old and grayed since she'd last seen him a year ago. "Being able to provide true guidance to the most active slayer we have, it is ideal. Well, as ideal as this situation could be..."

"So, what? You're gonna send Wes back here to tell me when I'm being a very naughty slayer?"

"We wish to provide you resources, Ms. Summers." Travers was the only one speaking; the rest of them were just staring without any expressions at all. At least The Gentlemen smiled. "We hear that The Initiative is unable to control itself as of late. And that, for a time, you were dating..." Travers paused to look at his paperwork. Buffy almost choked on the air, shooting Giles her panic eyes. "A Riley Finn, who is an agent on their staff?"

"Oh! Riley! I... Riley, yes." Buffy cleared her throat as Giles moved into his kitchen. "Um, never serious."

"Ms. Summers, would he be able to debrief us on—"

"We do not need that Neanderthal involved in anything," Giles called back into the room. He re-emerged with a glass of something, the total Papa Bear fire going on in his eyes.

"Riley led me into a trap, what was it, Giles? 'Bout a month ago? I'm thinking he's not huge with the helpful. Or did your papers not tell you that part?"

"Well, that _is_ unfortunate." Travers packed the papers neatly all into the folder. "We've been aware of their presence for a while, of course, but we'd hoped that Margaret Walsh would have a tighter handle on things."

"Aww, too bad." Buffy smirked. "Guess you have to head back to England now, huh?"

"There is one more matter we wish to discuss."

Buffy opened her mouth, but Travers interrupted her.

"With Mr. Giles."

"Pardon?"

"Mr. Giles, you may or may not have heard that the magic shop in downtown Sunnydale has had a string of bad luck. The most recent owner, Ms. Dalton, has recently succumb to whatever illness had been spread around town."

"Alright..." Giles kept his eyes on Buffy, the pair of them watching each other's reaction.

"We were hoping you would not be opposed," Travers said, standing, "to becoming the new shop owner."

"I—"

"Huh?"

"Well, we want to make sure that anything with magical properties doesn't fall into the wrong hands. We know it has happened before. When William the Bloody was trying to have Ms. Rosenberg create a love potion for him, for instance."

Buffy willed Giles to just read her thoughts, to know that her wide eyes were trying to tell him _Give them whatever they want and make them go away before they bring up Spike again._

"Would I be reinstated as a watcher?" Giles put his cup down on the nearest surface.

"Not unless Ms. Summers decides to re-join our ranks."

"Well, I'm not planning on asking her to do that."

"Then you would simply be in charge of keeping the dangerous items away from the public. Demonic summoning talismans, chaos idols, and the like. Is this agreeable?"

"Well, I don't see why not."

"Good. Is there any other business we should attend to while we're in town? We have to stop by Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon, but we could achieve much before then."

"No!" Buffy yelped. Travers turned to Giles, who confirmed his Slayer's reaction with a simple head shake.

"Very well. Please do call, if any more information comes to light. You may not work for us, but open communication is vital to our mutual survival."

"Indeed."

Buffy didn't really watch the watchers go, keeping her eyes to the ground. If they did any poking around town, found out about Spike, or her _and_ Spike, or... She hated the Watcher's Council. Why did all of them have to come here anyway? They must've been scared of what The Initiative was capable of, but Buffy liked to think that she was the one who scared them a little. Plus, without a real slayer to watch over, they must've been mega bored.

"Buffy?"

"Hm?" When she looked up, it was only Giles and her in the whole place, the front door probably long since closed.

"What's on your mind? Do you want me to not take this?"

"No, no. By all means. Get your retail on. I just..." She thought back to her conversation with Angel, how he and Giles had been talking about her relationship without her around. Giles didn't particularly like Spike, even if he was tolerating him for Buffy's sake. Then a thought smacked her: "Did they say they were going to LA?"

"Yes?"

"Why LA?"

"I imagine a connecting flight."

"Or Faith."

"Oh dear."

Buffy held a hand to her head, closing her eyes to think. Rogue homicidal (even if formally) Slayer, vampire they didn't want to save in the first place. She was willing to give Spike a chance, and he wasn't even human. Was it fair to let them sneak up on Faith like that?

"Should I call Angel?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let him know the sitch. Tell him that he and Faith should stick together for right now. I'll go make sure they don't dust Spike on their way out of town."

Giles opened his mouth, but paused. Then he tried again: "Buffy?"

"Yeah, Giles?" She tilted her head at him. She wondered if he looked this tired all the time, like this last year had been really rough, or if it was just that Travers and Co. had woken him out of a sound sleep.

"I... You know that... Well, that is..."

Oh. It was one of those talks. Buffy moved to the couch, sitting on the arm of it and waiting for Giles to get less sputter-y.

"I do not wish to see you hurt, and I know that nineteen is very young..."

"Uh-huh..."

"I just hope that you're choosing the right people to trust."

"You mean Spike? Giles, he has a soul. And we've been dating for months now. He's not long-term planning guy. If he were gonna do something to us, don't you think he would've done it already?"

"Yes, well." Giles picked up his cup, staring down into it. "While I do not doubt Spike's ability to be impulsive and rash in the least, I was not entirely speaking of him."

"Well, then what?"

"You trusted Angel, and he became Angelus. You befriended Faith, and she helped Mayor Wilkins work toward the apocalypse. You began to trust that Riley boy..."

"So I have bad taste in men?" Buffy pouted out her lips, thinking. "And... slayer... pals?"

"You have borne so much already. As Slayer, but also as a girl. You know that I and Willow and Xander are trustworthy. Do not feel as though you have to shut us out."

"Shut you out? From what?!"

"Patrols," Giles said, moving back into the kitchen. "And... and research, and spending time together. All of it."

"Uh-huh." Buffy stood from the arm of the couch, moving toward the kitchen so she could have a good view of Giles. "And did you give Wills this little speech about Tara? Or Xander about Anya?"

"No, I didn't," he said, still refusing to look at her. "But they are not the Slayer. While I do try to help them as I can, they do not share your inherent responsibilities. Your... your destiny."

Buffy's mind snapped back to her birthday party, how she thought Giles' life would be way easier if she were a Kendra-like pure slayer. She sighed. "He helped you. When you were that feral demon thing. And he's helped us a lot. I trust him. And I think my instincts are right on this one, Giles."

"I hope they are." Finally, he looked at her. "I do wish for your happiness, Buffy, in whatever form that may come. I'm simply telling you—asking you—to be careful." He took a step forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Quentin Travers has said one irrefutable fact in his entire miserable life. When he fired me, his reason was..."

"I remember." Buffy smiled. So much pain that week, and not just the bloody and bruised variety. But this had stuck with her. "'You have a father's love for the child.'"

xxxxx

"Well, okay, I guess Travers _was_ right that Riley might know something useful," Willow said, stirring her drink with her little pink straw. "But this? Kind of the whole lion's den deal."

"I know," Buffy said, surveying the room. "But we'll be really quick. Promise. Plus, Xander and Giles and Tara and Anya are on stand-by in case they try to kidnap us."

"You notice how we only ever go to parties lately to do secret spy stuff?" Wills sipped on her drink.

Buffy wanted to make sure she kept eyes on every guy who passed them. Giles had tried to fight them on the returning to the Lowell House thing, but no one had heard from or seen Riley, at least since Walsh's death. She figured that if there was a party at his house and he wasn't in mortal peril he'd probably be there. But they had yet to see him.

Willow had been terrified that she and Buffy would be recognized immediately, so the two of them had run to the nearest shop and, once they were sure Ethan Rayne wasn't running it, bought wigs with dark hair. Buffy had flapper hair; Willow had this whole long, Hollywood-glamour thing going on. Both of them went with super goth-y, super non-them outfits. Spike was more difficult to disguise. Buffy had finally forced a baseball cap of Xander's on his head, and getting him into the Hawaiian shirt without his duster was double the struggle, but she'd managed it.

"Spike's been gone a while, right?"

"Well, yeah. More than five minutes. But I haven't seen anyone else go upstairs. I think he's alright. Do you think he's alright?"

"I'm sure he's alright." Buffy played with the ends of her fake hair as a guy approached them. He was cute, but crew-cut with a very stern expression; definitely an Initiative boy.

"Uh, hi," he said. "What's your name?"

"Mon nom est Roxanne, et je suis un étudiant d'un pays lointain."

Buffy and Initiative Lad blinked at Willow, completely lost. She only grinned. The boy turned to Buffy. "And you are?"

" La jeudi de... vache doit me... touche?"

"Uh... Right." He wandered off.

"Well played, Wills," Buffy laughed.

"School learnin' wins again," Willow said, forgoing the straw and chugging the rest of her punch.

"I think I'm going to check on him," Buffy said. "Odds are he's starting trouble, right?"

"Okay. I'll hold down the fort. And if anything Hellmouth-y or science experiment-y starts happening, I'll call in the cavalry."

Buffy smiled, touching Willow's shoulder briefly before heading up the stairs. Spike, ever impatient, had decided to go directly up to Riley's room and see if there was anything of use there. Buffy was fairly convinced, given the Spike-decking-Riley incident, that this was an excuse to wreck Riley's room, but she'd given him the chance to check.

When she reached the top of the stairs, something didn't feel quite right. There was... It was like one of her slayer dreams, with the whole doom and gloom feeling even before the "fun" stuff started. She looked down the hall. Except for a couple making out, there wasn't anything at all. Buffy shrugged. The doors were all open, except for one. Closing one of her eyes and hoping the room wasn't occupied for someone's sexcapades, she entered and shut the door behind her immediately.

xxxxx

Spike abandoned Harris' cap and shirt the second he got into Soldier Boy's room. He'd had the foresight to wear one of his black tees underneath, so he wasn't completely indecent as he dug around in drawers and under the bed and behind the pillows. It all confirmed one thing: Finn was even more Captain Cardboard than Spike had realized. Not only was there not a clue of anything Initiative-related, but there wasn't even anything mildly naughty. No girly mags stuffed under his mattress, no box of Johnnies in his bedside table. Sad git didn't even have a shirt in a crazy color.

The place was too clean, even for him. Spike took in a deep breath, but the place smelled... Like no one. No sign a human had ever even been here. His clothes, his school books, all here. It wasn't like Finn had moved. But the place was no longer occupied, and it'd been scrubbed of any sign of him. The Initiative, or...

The door to the boy's room swung open and slammed shut all in one go. Spike crouched by instinct, turning toward the source of the noise. Back pressed to the door, some tiny girl with short black hair took shallow breaths. She reached out to her left, flicking on the lights, and jumped when she saw him. Spike laughed, straightening up.

"Slayer, could give a bloke a heart attack that way."

"Ha. Ha." Buffy locked the room door, pulling off the black wig. Her golden locks spilled out around her bare shoulders. She and Will had taken playing dress-up seriously; Buffy was wearing some red corset with a black skirt, lookin' like some kind of punk band groupie... Or Faith. "Spike, where the hell is your disguise?"

"Not much for playin' dress-up, pet," Spike said with a sneer, eyeing the corner of the room. Buffy followed his gaze, scoffing.

"Spike! You can't put Xander's clothes in the trash."

"Well, somebody ought to. Bet you Demon Girl'll thank me."

She ran her fingers through her hair, searching the rest of the room. "Did you actually find anything useful, or are you just leaving booby traps for him?"

"How petty do you think I... Yeah, alright. Thought crossed my mind." He grinned, moving toward her. "Place is spotless. I don't think the boy's been here for a while."

"God. You don't think anything happened to him, do you? Like, The Initiative did something?"

"Shh. I'm sure he's fine, love. Trained and all, yeah?" He held her shoulders, tilting his head. "I think... Bugger it. There's something about him and Adam and the chip... I've been tryin' to remember, but it's been years and a few bouts of torture for me since then. Plus my visit to the clouds. Might have to talk to the Wiccas about tappin' into memory. Maybe there's an herbal tea or somethin' I can take."

"Well, if there's nothing here, we might as well..." Buffy turned, her hand hesitating on the doorknob.

Spike could've sworn he heard something chanty. He only caught the tail end of it: _Liberare spiritus._

"What, Spike?" Buffy looked over her shoulder.

"Wasn't me, love. You don't think Red..."

"No. Not unless there was mega danger of the demonic variety."

Suddenly pink and red swirling smoke ebbed up from under the door, shifting up both of their bodies. Buffy held her breath. Spike listened, hard, trying to see if he heard anything else coming from the hallway. The silence around them was deafening. Buffy turned the doorknob, yanking.

"It's locked, love," Spike said.

Spike reached past her hip toward the lock, and his hand grazed her side. She looked at him over her shoulder, their faces so close that when she finally breathed again he felt the warmth of it on his lips. The longer she looked at him, the shorter her breaths became, the more her heart sped up. Spike's eyes wandered over her and, before he even knew what he was doing, he latched onto her neck with his human teeth, sucking the skin there greedily.


	31. Chapter 30

_Dedicated to Quindecim (who gets bonus points for reading what's been posted so far in a day), RKF22, RAGAnne, madcloisfan, and Cloongarvin._

 _Smut alert. Pretty much all smut. Well, except for a particular moment Buffy has, and then the post-smut towards the end._

 _There's a character you've all been waiting to see justice done to. And next chapter, you shall see him dealt with, one way or another..._

 **Chapter 30**

Buffy gasped, then moaned, leaning back against Spike and holding the back of his head in place. He growled, something instinctual and primitive taking hold, vampire and Slayer, predator and prey each in turn. He pushed her forward so she was pinned against the door. She only clutched at his hair harder. His canine caught the wrong way and a drop or two of blood escaped her. Spike didn't say a word about it, simply licking it from her skin.

She whipped around, grabbing him and forcing his lips down to hers. She kissed him, hard, teeth grazing his lips. When she moved up to his earlobe, damn near puncturing his skin there with her teeth, he picked her up from the ground, hoisting her so she was level with him. Spike felt her hand move for his pants but was a bit distracted by her lips touching his skin, like fire along his jaw, his neck. She dug her nails into his biceps, clutching to him like it was the only thing keeping her from falling.

Then she slid her hot sex over his cock. Spike grit his teeth, thrusting into her in time with the smooth movement of her hips. He held his eyes tight shut, his panting mimicking hers, appreciating the warmth and wetness of her body and the softness of her skin, the cycle of tension and release of each of her muscles. When he felt her hand on his cheek, his eyes shocked open, anticipating something was wrong. Instead, he was met with calm, steady green eyes, the smallest smile on her lips.

"William."

She leaned her forehead against his, gasping. Unable to hold on any longer, Spike released inside of her, could feel her spasming around him in response. When the girl seemed to finally be catching her breath, Spike lowered her to her feet. She combed her fingers through her hair, eyes only growing wilder the longer she looked at him. Spike patted at his own hair, the curls long since let loose from his gel and well beyond his control. As Buffy adjusted her skirt, something ached inside of Spike. It felt like a piece of him had been torn away too soon. When she made eye contact again, he could tell the feeling was mutual.

xxxxx

Buffy reached out, clasped his hand in hers. She didn't understand what was wrong with her. Spike had given her at least two huge happys, but she was still feeling that lower tummy ache for more. The combination of satisfaction and frustration was making all of her muscles coil up, the way that they did before a big battle or something.

Pulling his hand to her lips, she kissed each of Spike's fingers, grinning as she did. Some part of the back of her brain was yelling at her: that this was Riley's room; that they were right over The Initiative; that Willow was downstairs waiting for them; that something had come into the room when... Spike pulled her hand toward him, nibbling at one of her fingertips. Buffy shook her head, trying to focus, and he stopped immediately. The pair of them whimpered with the loss of contact.

"What's wrong?"

"I..." Buffy held a hand to her head, the beginnings of a major migraine coming on. "There was... the smoke with the... God, I can't even think right now."

"Magics?" Spike tilted his head. He was squinting at Buffy, his jaw grinding like he was in just as much pain as she was.

Buffy nodded. Her ribcage felt like it had so much pressure on it that it was about to explode. "Um, yeah. Maybe Wills can... do an, um, reverse..." She reached behind her, trying to pull at the clasps of the corset, but her fingers were fumbling.

"Here, lemme help."

Buffy's vision was starting to fade away. She moved in the general direction of the bed, kneeling on top of it, and swept her hair over her shoulder. The bed creaked as Spike moved up behind her. When he nuzzled the back of her neck, some of the pain relieved. He made quick work of the corset, and Buffy wondered if she'd have to go home half-naked naked because he'd broken it.

When Spike rubbed her shoulder, she suddenly didn't care so much. Buffy unsnapped her skirt, tossing it to the floor, and she saw Spike's shirt join it in no time at all. Then his bare skin was touching hers, making breathing easier and thinking about anything but him harder. She edged forward, using her hands to brace herself against the bed. He ran his tongue from the middle of her spine up to her shoulder. Buffy clutched to the sheets.

"Sweet Slayer," he whispered in her ear.

Buffy tried her best to regain any kind of thought she could. It turned into _Spike... God that feels... Cares about me and... Really, wow, okay... Trust and... We can... happiness._

 _I love you._

Just when she'd found a thought that allowed itself to be complete, Spike slipped inside of her split from behind her. Though some semblance of that last thought floated around in her brain, like trying to remember a dream after first waking up, any hope of saying words was long gone.

They were working toward something, together, her and Spike. She just wasn't particularly sure what that something was.

xxxxx

Buffy lost track of time, her brain totally fogging over. Spike was reclining on Riley's bed, completely stripped down. She held her hair back with one hand, keeping it from curtaining her face as she rode him. His hands skirted up her sides, from her hips to her ribcage, finally settling when he cupped each of her breasts, his thumbs teasing over the nipples.

Something inside of Buffy burst, an intense calm taking her over. She pressed her hands to Spike's chest, adjusting the angle of their joining just a little. Spike bit his lower lip. A sharp inhale of breath and he released again. Once Buffy was sure he was satisfied, she collapsed against his chest. The pair of them moved so that they were side by side, facing each other.

Spike brushed the hair out of Buffy's faced, sweat from what must have, by now, been hours of activity making it cling.

"God, I'm a mess," Buffy panted. The headache and the lower tummy cravings were already kicking up again.

"You're beautiful." His eyes took a once-over of her. "Sunshine."

Buffy smiled, nuzzling against him. She didn't know how much longer she could go on like this. Eventually she was going to need a glass of water or a box of protein bars or something, right? God, how embarrassing would it be if she was the Slayer who screwed a vampire until she died? "Is this... There's something we can't..."

"Shh, I know, love." He reached between them, his thumb lazily grazing over her clit. Buffy's hips bucked in response. She took a deep breath to steady herself. "It makes it easier," he whispered, like someone else was trying to listen in. "To concentrate. If we're touching, it doesn't hurt as much."

"Gotta be a spell, right?" He wasn't wrong. She was actually able to get out words if they were in contact, at least. "Like a lust-y spell?"

"But the question is why," Spike said. Buffy latched her teeth onto the side of his neck, pulling the skin there as he spoke. She giggled a little at the vibrations of his vocal chords. "Who has anythin' to gain from us shaggin' like bunnies, right?"

Buffy pulled away from him, her legs stretching as she felt a small orgasm relieve some of the pressure that she knew would just return in another thirty seconds. Spike pulled his hand away, bringing his finger to his lips. Buffy's nose scrunched up.

"Sorry, pet," he said, a soft laugh in his voice. "Love the taste of you."

Buffy could feel him squirming beside her, probably suffering from the aching even more than she was at the moment. She rolled on top of him, kissing all along his chest. "Spike, focus?"

"Could be an Initiative experiment," he offered.

"You don't think... You don't think Riley had anything to do with this, do you?"

Spike tilted his head at her as Buffy paused with a kiss on his hip bone. "No. Before we started... He hasn't been here in a long while."

"I just..." Buffy exhaled slowly. His cock twitched in response to her warm breath. "I don't know I can go much longer," she whispered.

"Yeah, I'm gonna need to drain a whole bleedin' cow at this rate," Spike agreed. When Buffy sat up, he reached down to pump himself. Buffy felt her blood flow direct points south.

"Maybe if we figure out why..."

"Your mates'll help." Spike reached forward, his thumbs grazing the insides of her thighs. Buffy watched the pale white against flushed tan, lost in the colors for a moment. "They'll figure it out and do the white hat thing."

"Mm," Buffy said. She kissed along the side of his length, finally taking him inside her mouth. Fragments of thoughts swirled inside of her, but her instinct concentrated on _Survive. Continue. Need to continue._

Somewhere, her brain tried to piece it together, make sense of it all:

 _Breed. Someone said something about breed. Hybrid. Interesting experiment._

xxxxx

When the door to the room burst open (taking some of the door frame with it), Spike and Buffy turned. He was completely exposed on top of her, his hands pinning her wrists to the bed as she had been moaning and writhing under him. Now, staring at him, was Harris and Willow. Both went wide-eyed, Harris spinning to face the other way and holding himself against the wall, Wills moving her line of sight to the ceiling as her face turned roughly the shade of her hair.

"Guys!" Buffy scrambled to get a sheet over the two of them, but Tin Soldier had the corners all tucked and it was impossible.

"Uh..." Spike rubbed the back of his head, trying to remember where his togs were.

Willow waved her hand. Spike's black tee and the shirt of Harris' that he'd discarded flew to the bed. "We'll be in the hall," she squeaked, pushing Xander out and shutting the door (as best she could with it off its hinges) behind them.

"Oh God." Buffy sat up, pulling her knees to her chest and burying her face in them. "I think I have a new most embarrassing moment."

"Well," Spike said, pulling on the tee. He left the Hawaiian shirt next to her. "If it makes you feel any better, I think they only got a good look at my bare bum. You were prolly pretty well covered by, well..." He laughed, rolling his tongue behind his teeth. "Me."

"Yes. Totally wanted my two best friends to watch us having sex. Was so a life goal of mine," she griped, throwing Harris' shirt over her. She hopped off the bed, pulling on her skirt and picking up the corset, which she only draped over her arm. "This broken?"

"Nah." Spike stood, yanking on his pants from the floor. "Benefits of a Victorian-raised lover, Slayer." He shoved his feet into his boots and opened the door, letting the girl leave first.

"But seriously, what the hell was that all about?" Buffy demanded as she joined her friends in the hall.

"Oh, we have someone who'll help us find that out," Xander said. He kept his eyes to the ground as they walked down the stairs together with Willow.

"Who?" Buffy and Spike asked at once.

On the first floor, only three people were around: Giles and Anya, each roughly restraining the arm of a struggling...

"Warren?"


	32. Chapter 31

_Dedicated to RKF22, Quindecim, tomieharley, RAGAnne, madcloisfan, and xXxblacklilyxXx._

 **Chapter 31**

Buffy turned to Spike, and he'd already vamped and was lunging. Xander stepped out in front of him, a hand to his chest, giving Buffy enough time to grab Spike by the arms and hold him back. Spike growling, his amber eyes set on Warren, who was now struggling even harder to get as far away from them as possible.

"You guys can't just let him eat me! I mean, c'mon. I'm a human. You can't—"

"Shut up," Buffy snapped, a warning finger pointing in his direction.

"If you do not stop thrashing about," Giles said, his voice low, "I will have Anya knock you unconscious until we can relocate you."

"But she's a girl," Warren said, smiling at Anya on his left. With her free hand, she pinched his arm. "Ow!"

"There's plenty more where that came from, Buster! I've got over a thousand years of vengeance experience and nothin' but time."

Warren gulped, shut up, and stood still. Spike, however, did not.

"Slayer, you gotta let me take care of him once and for all. I will not have him hurtin' any of yours. Or muckin' about with our shaggin' habits." Spike shrugged free of her grip, but didn't attack.

"I—" Giles' face puckered like he'd just eaten a whole raw lemon. "What?"

"He cast some kind of lust spell," Willow said, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at Warren. "They were stuck in that room all night."

Buffy glanced at the window, only just noticing that it was light out. They really had been at it for hours. Even with a hot bath and slayer healing, she was pretty certain soreness was going to be unavoidable for at least another 24 hours.

"What I don't get is why," Xander said, turning his back on Spike to mirror Will's glare-down. "What, did Adam have something big planned and want them distracted?"

"No." Buffy stared at the wall for a minute, something in the haziness of the night, something non-Spike sexiness related, trying to creep to the surface of her mind. "It was an experiment," she said as it dawned on her. She locked eyes with Warren, recoiling. "He was experimenting on us."

"Hybrids," Spike scoffed. "That's what this was about? Ol' Mr. Bits an' Bobs really is barmy."

"Lost," Xander said, holding a pointer finger in the air, "and also highly disturbed."

"Vampires can't reproduce," Anya said.

"Yeah, well, Adam figured, I dunno, that you two might be different or something. There was some kind of prophecy this fungus demon had heard about from a sand shoed demon or something about... I dunno. Look, I just play with the circuitry, okay? Most of the time what he says is nuts."

"Then why follow him?" Willow demanded.

"Better than what I've got going on. Look, the spell would've worn off if she'd gotten pregnant. Adam figured that if the experiment failed, and he couldn't make natural hybrids, they'd do the horizontal mamba to death and then two of his strongest enemies would be out of the way."

"What I don't understand," Giles said, "is how you got a hold of such a powerful lust spell in the first place. You're not even a witch."

"It wasn't a lust spell." Warren rolled his eyes, which only made Spike lick his fangs. "It released some ghost in the house or something. It was in one of the spell books down at that abandoned magic place in town."

Buffy and Giles locked eyes. "Guess it really is a good thing Travers has you taking that place over, huh?"

"Yes, well. I think I'll give him a call. I believe they have indefinite detention facilities available."

"We can't just lock him up," Spike protested. "He's going to hurt her, and I won't—"

"This twerp hurts the Buffster?" Xander interrupted.

"Yeah." Spike bit his lip. He lifted his shoulders and looked to the ground.

"But I'm not who he was talking about," Buffy whispered.

"Spike, I have considered that fact," Giles said. "And this is the best solution. We cannot have the blood of a human on our hands."

"I can. Or hell, Miss Vengeance over there. Nothin' we haven't done before."

"Spike." Buffy grabbed his arm, but he didn't look up. "William," she whispered. Now he did lock eyes with her, sneering, his face hardened, ready to do what needed doing. Buffy understood the expression. When she had to face The Master... send Angel to hell... Spike was a warrior preparing.

"Who was he talking about?" Willow said, her voice meek. Buffy looked over at her friend. Wills' slight frown gave away that she thought it was her. Buffy smiled, crookedly, hoping she didn't let it show in her eyes. Unfortunately, she failed big time.

"Wait, Tara?" Willow mouthed. Her entire face dropped, her eyes tearing up just at the thought of it. She turned immediately to Warren. "Goddess Hecate, work thy will…"

"Willow, stop."

Giles' voice snapped her out of it. Wills turned to him, her lip trembling like she was about to start heaving and burst into tears the way she had on Buffy's shoulder in the weeks after Oz left. Buffy wanted, more than anything, to go over and hug her, but it probably wasn't the time.

"Willow, you can't use your power to simply make the world as you wish."

"Why not?" she demanded, her voice harsh. "What? Am I just supposed to stand by and wait... for..."

"It is dark magic, Willow. That kind of magic can consume you. The kind of magic Spike warned us about."

"Trust me," Spike said. "It's a better fate than Red dishes out to him otherwise."

All of the Scoobies, and Warren, stared at Spike, waiting for him to continue.

"He'd at least still have his skin, and air in his sodding lungs."

"Are you people psychotic?" Warren squeaked, flailing around again.

"I vote we make him a rat," Anya agreed with a firm nod.

"Wait, no. Riley!" Buffy said, shooting a look to Willow, whose eyes immediately widened.

"We should make Riley a rat?" Xand asked. Spike snickered.

"No, Riley! Spike said he hadn't been there in a while." Buffy narrowed her eyes at Warren. "Where is he?"

"Who?" Warren laughed. Giles scruffed him by the back of the neck like a cat. "I tell you, you'll kill me. Or let Sabrina over there turn me into kitty chow."

"How about this?" Buffy tilted her head, batting her eyelashes. "You tell me, I send you with Giles to the Watcher's Council and you get to live out your pathetic life hidden under London somewhere. Or, you could not tell me. You could piss me off more than you already have. And then I could let Willow turn you into a rat... Or Spike drain you... Or Anya give us inspiration with one of her stories when she was working for D'Hoffryn... Take your pick." She glanced at Spike sidelong. "What do you think, honey? Any preferences?"

"Much as I'd enjoy some..." Spike took a deep breath. "AB neg straight from the tap, turnin' him into vermin only seems appropriate," Spike said. He smirked, changing back to his human features. Warren's mouth remained tightly shut.

"Goddess Hecate," Willow started chanting, "work thy—"

"Alright! Alright! Adam took him. He's over in some caves in the woods. I don't know exactly which one, he keeps moving operations to keep you guys off his trail."

"Good." Buffy nodded. "Hey, Willow. Know any good knock-out spells?"

Willow grinned. "Dormeo." Warren went limp in Giles and Anya's hands.

xxxxx

Spike took the DeSoto to head back to his crypt, Giles took Warren, Willow, and Anya in his old car to restrain Warren back at Giles' until they called the council, and Xander offered Buffy a lift back to campus. She sat in the passenger's seat, playing with the hem of the shirt that Xander had lent to Spike, refusing to look up. There were just some levels of awkward that there was no cure for. Xander cleared his throat, eyes very much on the road, hands at two and ten as they clutched the wheel.

"Are you alright?" he finally asked.

"You mean aside from the creepy violation of my private life? Peachy, yeah."

"Buff, he... Spike didn't _hurt_ you right?"

"No!" Buffy gasped. "It just... we didn't have control of ourselves. It was like Willow's engagement spell thingy, except with, you know..."

"X-rated material?"

Buffy groaned. "We may need to talk to Willow and Tara about a memory eraser for you and Wills."

"I plan to heavily repress," Xander said, a huge dopey grin on his face. "Believe me, that's my family's favorite sport."

Buffy played with her fingernails, some of her thoughts from the night she'd spent with Spike only just starting to make sense to her. Wanting to constantly be in contact with him, trying again and again and again and getting satisfied only to have it wiped away, working toward...

They were working toward a child. Not because they wanted to, but because they'd been chosen to as part of some sort of sick experiment. For a brief moment, Buffy wished that she could see that down the line some day. Even if Spike weren't of the undead variety, she was the Slayer. It just wasn't going to be in the cards. Papooses and beheading just didn't mesh.

"He wouldn't hurt me, you know," Buffy said, her voice small. "Spike. He wouldn't do that. Wacky as that is to admit."

"Funnily enough, Buff, I'm inclined to agree."

"You—huh?"

"I notice stuff. The guy is clearly obsessed with you, in the whole Angel-esque _I'm a vampire_ kinda way." Xander stole a look at her before hitting the brakes at a stop sign. "After he's helpful with Adam, I'm thinking it'll probably be a non-issue anyway."

"Well, that's doomy and gloomy."

"Not 'cause we'll all be dead. We're the Scoobies." He smirked. "We're like cockroaches."

"We're pests?" Buffy laughed.

"No..."

"We survive nuclear apocalypse along with Twinkies?" Buffy held a hand over her mouth, trying to keep a straight face and not.

"I mean that... It's not going to last. He'll go dark side again, or stop working with us at least, or get annoyed with us and go away. And that'll be that."

"Geez. You and Angel and Giles been having _Buffy's Relationship Malfunctions_ sewing circles or something?"

"What?"

"Like, seriously. You guys must have a betting pool going for our break-up date. Me and Spike is me and Spike's business, not yours."

"Buffy, we're friends. You are my business. What I wouldn't do, for you or Willow, could fit on the back of a postage stamp."

"Okay then, Insight Lad. Then tell me, how did you come to this oh-so-brilliant conclusion?"

"It's Spike. Soul or no soul, he's not the hero type. He's the _do what I want, yay, destruction_ type. If you were thinking straight, if the stuff with Parker and Riley hadn't rattled you, you'd be with someone normal. Human."

"Right. Those are so plentiful in Sunnydale."

"Hey. I'm perfectly normal."

"And you also help me slay and whittle stakes and stuff." Buffy's eyebrows scrunched up at she examined Xander. "And you're taken. Remember? Vengeance Gal beat me to the punch on that one."

"Yeah," he said, monotone. "Ahn's great."

"You care about her, right?"

"Of course I do, Buffy," he said, pulling up to campus, the street nearest Stevenson, and parking under a tree. "I love her."

Xander was so busy putting an expiration date on her relationship with Spike. But Anya was crazy about him and he was mustering about as much enthusiasm for her as a turtle flipped on its back—maybe less. "Just—Don't string her along, okay?"

Something dark overtook Xand's eyes. "Excuse me?"

"If you don't see you guys going the distance, don't pretend you do. I know how much it hurts, someone acting like they'll be around forever with you and they end up deciding things are over without even asking your opinion. See: Angel and Parker."

"I'm nothing like Angel."

"I know. Xand, I just..."

"I don't know where I'll be in a year or five years or ten, alright? I don't know how long Anya and I'll last. Sorry I don't have a sacred duty or an immortal boyfriend from the future to make everything look all permanent."

"Xander. That's not what I meant and you know it."

Xander took a deep breath, returning his attention to his steering wheel. "We've all had a long night, Buff. Let's go get some sleep and just forget about this."

Buffy opened her mouth, but couldn't think of the right thing to say. So she just slid out of the car and watched as Xander drove away.


	33. Chapter 32

_Dedicated to Quindecim, momnesia, RAGAnne, RKF22, tomieharley, Highfield, and madcloisfan._

 _(Long author's note is long. Many apologies.)_

 _To reply to some reviews: I had half-considered actually turning Warren into a rat and them keeping him with Amy, so that's not a too out-there thought! I definitely agree Xander was hung up on Buffy, and I think it was something he truly needed to face._

 _I will also say that I've been laying the breadcrumbs for the rest of this (as I imagine it will be) trilogy already, so enjoy that little insider tidbit._

 _If it's been a while since you watched the show, Anya is referring to a very specific canon moment in this chapter, from 5x10. Things have been shifting around or changing entirely, both minor and major, on account of The Powers' decision to send Spike back, so things won't follow canon exactly._

 _Hopefully this chapter is sweet and fuzzy enough to make up for depressing Chapter 31. Because we've also got some tension coming in the near future..._

 **Chapter 32**

Spike had offered Tara his armchair, twice, and twice she refused it, choosing instead to sit cross-legged on the floor, her long green skirt spilling out around her. Anya sat on a stone coffin opposite of the one Spike had chosen. His legs swung over the side as he touched up his black nail polish, whistling. The timid witch had all sorts of herbal whatevers spread around her, and Spike couldn't exactly make heads or tails of any of it. But when Buffy had requested that he keep her there for a few hours, he didn't ask questions. Figured the council finally decided to come and pick up the thorn in their side, and keeping Tara away from him was always for the best.

"Two sprigs of St. John's Wart," the blond witch muttered, reading from her mum's old tattered book. She tossed 'em into the jug of water she'd spent the last twenty minutes blessing. "A leaf from a... hm." She chewed on her lip, her eyes narrow in utter concentration.

"This isn't a sexy spell, is it?" Anya blurted, examining her nails.

"I... What?" Tara's eyes opened as wide as they could've as she looked to Demon Girl.

"Like, it's not going to require that you, me, and Spike get all naked and sweaty? Some spells feed on the energy of orgies. I doubt that Xander would like that very much. Well, that Spike was involved anyway. Though you are both very attractive, and I imagine with vampire stamina..."

"And that's the end of that line of thought," Spike said, closing his polish and jumping off of the coffin. "I don't need you undressin' me with your eyes." The young witch's cheeks had turned soft pink. She glanced at Spike, and then immediately back down at her spellbook. "Have everythin' you need, yeah? Not missing some kind of talisman or crystal or somethin'?"

"Um, I, yeah. Just..." Tara cringed. "Blood."

"What?" Damn spells always needed blood from this and that. He didn't know what it was that made the witchy types so obsessed with bodily fluids. He might still have a pint of cow blood in the fridge for her. Spike tried to remember if he'd drank it that morning...

The girl took a deep breath, lifting her gaze and meeting his eyes. "I need blood. Willow spoke to that techno Wiccan lady she found, and she said it won't work on his, um, tech-y parts. But then Will and I were talking about it and... You know that spell I did on your tracker?"

"Sure. Nearly knocked me out, which ain't easy, love."

"Well, uh, if I can steal the electric ability from him for a minute, and we can give him the potion to paralyze the other parts, it should be enough to get him inactive for a few seconds or so."

"So the blood? What kind do you need?" Anya asked, hopping off her coffin as well. She walked over to Spike's TV, rolling one of the antanae between her fingers.

"Um, one for each part. S-s-so demon, and human."

"Luckily you have two of those on tap, eh?" Spike smirked. He vamped and took a nip out of his own hand before the girl could say another word, holding his hand over the jar and letting it drip inside. "How much d'ya need?"

"It doesn't say. I think... that should be good?"

Spike nodded, sucking at the side of his hand, which had already begun to heal with no mending necessary.

Anya rolled her eyes, dragging her feet over to where Tara had situated herself. "Fine." She held her hand out, shooting Spike a look. "Let's get this over with." She pointed at the witch. "And you better not be selling this on the black market."

"She strike you as the black market type, then?" Spike nodded toward Tara. "You got one of those fancy witch knives on you?"

"Oh, for Pete's sake." Anya shook her hand pointedly. "Just use your damn fangs."

"And have Harris stake me?" He shifted his face back to human form. "I'll pass, pet."

"Let me see." Tara combed her hair behind her ears, digging around in her bag. She pulled out a little silver instrument with a pointed edge.

"A nail file?" Anya groaned. "Seriously?"

Spike took the file in one hand and Anya's hand in the other. When she closed her eyes and turned away, he jabbed her palm with it. A red spot welled up on her skin and she flipped it so it'd drip into the witch's brew.

"That work?" Spike tossed the file back on top of the Earth Mother's bag.

She studied her potion. "By the powers of radiance and shadow, petrify mine enemies."

They all waited, staring at the jar of water with red streams and leaves and stuff floating around inside. For a bit, nothing happened. Then the entire liquid in the jar turned the same shade of red, and some gray smoke puffed over the top. Tara smiled, shifting side to side where she sat. "It worked!"

"Score one for Team Do-Gooders," Spike said. He reached into his pocket for a cig and his lighter. "Red'll be pleased."

"Yeah. She's been a little..." Tara started gathering up her herbs, tossing them into her bag. "Since you guys grabbed Warren, she's been Mopey Willow."

"No troublesome spells, though, right?"

Tara shook her head. "We've been doing accuracy spells. Like, making flower petals float and stuff. Nothing major. Mostly I've been doing it just to cheer her up."

"Well, I'm certain she'll be pleased when Warren is far, far away from you," Anya said, picking at the puncture wound on her hand as Spike lit up and took a puff. They'd all just assumed Willow had told her bird about why they wanted Warren locked away. "I voted for rat Warren myself," Anya added, chipper as possible.

Spike chuckled. Had to respect Demon Girl. Never kept a thought inside her head, that one.

"Xander had been in a terrible mood, at first," Anya sighed. "I think that seeing Spike have sex with Buffy was uncomfortable for him. But then..." She smiled, staring at the door of Spike's crypt like her boy would walk in at any moment to sweep her off her feet. "He came to my apartment and told me how much he loved me, that he saw me as his long-term girl, that I made him feel like a man. It was touching."

Tara made a happy little humming sound in response to the story, getting to her feet as she minded the witchy jar.

"We had sex three times after."

Spike took an especially long drag on his cigarette, trying to knock that image out of his head by concentrating on the nicotine.

"How's Buffy doing?" Tara asked, wiping the dirt of the crypt floor off her skirt. "I mean, after... It must be weird, being someone's idea of an experiment."

"I'm gettin' real tired of the lab coats using me n' m'Slayer as sodding guinea pigs," he grumbled, tossing the cig to the ground and stomping it out. "She's holdin' up, though. Think what's startin' to bother her is not knowin' where Adam is, or how to find Finn."

"Maybe we should tell The Initiative? Get their, um, fire power on the case?"

"I don't think they're particularly competent as an organization," Anya mumbled. "And they seem rather bigoted..."

"We'll talk to our other halves 'bout it, yeah?" Spike said. "See if they think it's worth a shot." Spike didn't want anything to do with the men in green. It could only cause the Slayer's lot trouble.

Tara slung her bag over her shoulder, picking up the jar in two cautious hands. "I'll head back to campus with this and see if Willow's around to ask. See you later, Spike?"

"Sure, love."

She turned, Anya walking toward the door with her.

"Anya. Do you know if Willow is allergic to cats?"

"No, I don't know. Why?"

"I was thinking about getting one," the little witch said as they opened the door and left the crypt. "And I want my place to be Willow-friendly."

Spike closed the door behind them. It wasn't quite sundown yet, but it would be low enough to get to the DeSoto before long. Buffy said she'd be at Rupert's new shop, had invited him to stop by and help her pretend to stock his shelves and organize the inventory room. Sounding borin' as hell to him, but his alternative was pacing the crypt for the umpteenth time waiting for the Slayer to come by and keep him company, or searchin' any cave inside the Sunnydale perimeter with Harris.

xxxxx

Buffy couldn't believe it.

Giles had only owned the shop for, like, a week or two. When he took her to see the back room, she figured it'd be to use her Slayer strength for moving of the heavy magical items. Instead, Xander met them there, buttoning up the shirt of a scarecrow dummy. A huge mat had been laid out, a target hung from the one wall and shiny weapons from another, and it came complete with a punching bag and one of those gymnastics vaulty horse things.

"Giles, I—wow."

"I thought this would be a good training space for you," Giles said as Xander patted the dummy man on the chest.

"Uh-huh." Buffy reached over to one of the knives hanging from the wall and flung it at the scarecrow, hitting it right in the heart. Xander covered his head and ducked as Buffy clapped like a kid at a carnival, grinning from ear to ear.

"Why don't you spend some time getting familiar with this, hmm?"

"Aww, why does she get the non-retail-y fun?"

"Because, Xander, I need your help with a beam in the basement that seems as though it may need reinforcing." Giles exited.

"Great." Xand rolled his eyes. "This is what I get for developing a useful skill: Promotion to Beam Boy." He started out of the room. "Spike."

Buffy spun to the door tilting her head, but Xander was gone. "Huh?" she called after him. She heard a throat clearing and turned slightly to the right. "Oh! Spike. Hi. Anyone ever tell you it's not smart to sneak up on a slayer like that?"

He grinned, glancing over at the weapons wall display behind him. "You've got yourself a nice little set-up here, don't you, pet?"

"It's like Christmas except with pointy objects." Buffy paused. "Which, I mean, Giles tends to get me for Christmas anyway, so it makes sense!"

Spike chuckled. "Want to spar?"

"Want to get your ass kicked?" Buffy countered with a bright smile.

"Bring it, pet. I can take you."

"Pfft." Buffy fixed her hands on her hips. "You couldn't even take Faith. And I'm way better than her."

Spike removed his duster, stalking over to the scarecrow man and putting the coat around its shoulders. "Strong words from Malibu Barbie."

Buffy lunged at him, smacking him to the ground and skidding both of them halfway across the room. Spike flipped them to their sides, shoving her shoulders. He got enough leverage that he could jump to his feet, and Buffy matched him. When he took a swing at her, she ducked and hit him in the gut. Spike stumbled, just a step, before hooking the back of her knee with his leg and knocking her over. Buffy rolled, recovering into a crouch.

"What in the bloody—"

Buffy stood, her and Spike both turning to the door. Giles had stormed in, his glasses pre-removed. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"Oh. I thought... Well, I thought perhaps a demon got in and you were fighting it."

"Well, I mean, yeah," Buffy said.

"S'alright, Rupes," Spike added. "I only roughed her up a little."

"Please! I was so kicking your ass."

"Yes, I'm sure that Buffy can handle herself against you Spike. What I am more concerned about is the room that I just spent nine hours remodeling with Xander."

"If Mr. Bite Happy breaks the dummy," Xander called from the main store, "I'm not building another one."

"Got it, Giles. I'll play nice with him."

"Spike, did Tara complete her ritual?"

"Yeah," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Buffy tried to not get distracted by how that movement made his muscles all rippley in his tight black t-shirt. Mostly she failed, because Spike was talking and she was not big on the hearing of words. She tuned back in somewhere around "and Xander's bird both headed out together. I think it was to the campus or somethin' like that."

"Right. I'll let Willow know to meet her there, then." Giles left the room, shouting behind him "Mind any blood on the floor."

"Yes, Giles!" Buffy rolled her eyes, turning back to Spike just in time to see him leap at her, grabbing her around the middle and (with a yelp on her end) tackling her to the floor again. She giggled, then used her elbow to flip him, pinning him to the ground with just her hips. "Would you stop that? I'm going to bruise!"

"Oh, I'm sorry." One corner of Spike's mouth popped up. "I thought you wanted to spar, Summers, not play slap fight." He reached out, a gentle hand on either side of her hips.

Buffy took a minute to just look at him. She remembered the car ride after the Lowell house, how she wished, for however brief a half a second, that they could be normal-ish, that they could see a family in the future. She remembered, too, the thoughts that the lusty spell had knocked loose, the words that she'd been keeping herself from saying because they were words for Angel, or words that he'd use against her, or words that would sound silly and school-girly.

Buffy leaned down, kissing Spike softly on the lips. When she pulled back, they were both smiling. No big angsty strings attached, just enjoying one another. They could spar, snark, make love, hang out with her friends. Sure, all of her friends weren't a hundred percent on board with him yet (especially Giles and Xander), but Spike didn't seem to mind other than giving them crap about it. But it wasn't enough to convince him to leave her or avoid her or anything.

One look at his eyes. That was all it took for Buffy to see the out and out affection. He never had to say the words, though he did, often. She could see it in everything he did.

"Spike." Buffy rested a hand against his sculpted cheek and he leaned into it. "I love you."

He tensed under her, his lips moving to words she couldn't hear. His eyebrows twitched up and then down, like she'd just asked him to translate one of Giles' Latin books or something. Buffy grazed her finger over the scar on his eyebrow.

"I love you, Buffy." His eyes softened and he sat up suddenly, Buffy still straddling his lap. He pulled her into a tight hug, laughing. "God, I love you so much." Buffy giggled against his shoulder.


	34. Chapter 33

_This one goes out to RKF22, ElysiumPhoenix, Quindecim, madcloisfan, and RAGAnne._

 _Unfortunately, things are rarely ever boring on a Hellmouth..._

 _(Don't forget Sunnydale Memorial Fanfiction Award nominations are happening through the end of September. Make sure your favorite fics get onto that list! Voting happens in October.)_

 **Chapter 33**

Buffy had freaked when she woke up at nine and thought she had class. But when she realized it was the weekend, she cozied up to her pillows again and decided to sleep in. The sun was shining into the room, making everything all warm and calm.

When the door opened and closed, Buffy pretended to still be asleep. Willow was probably grabbing books or something to go study with Tara. Buffy and Wills were hardly ever in the dorm at the same time anymore, unless one of them was rushing in and out. Something clicked frantically next to Buffy's bed. She finally opened her eyes, rubbing at her face. Wills was pressing the answering machine button.

"Were there any messages when you got in?" she asked, her face twisted up in panic.

Buffy sat straight up. "No. Why?"

"Spike said that Tara and Anya left together yesterday. Anya came by The Magic Box to see Xander. I went to Tara's dorm and she wasn't there."

"Maybe she's—"

"The door was unlocked, and Tara always checks twice to make sure it locks. The potion she made yesterday was under her bed, but her mother's spellbook and her crystals and everything were gone. She wouldn't have just taken all of that with her. She didn't come back all night, Buffy, and—" Willow heaved, sitting back down on her bed and staring at the floor. "I don't know where she could be."

"Alright, take a breath." Buffy grabbed her nearest sweater and pulled it over her tank top. "Did Anya say anything useful?"

"No. She said Tara wanted to walk back to campus, and that she was going to stop by the Espresso Pump first, so they went different ways after the cemetery. I just... Buffy, I can't... What if something happened to her? What if a vampire got her and she was just easy pickings because I wasn't with her?" Willow couldn't hold the tears back anymore.

Buffy hopped to her feet, grabbing a pair of boots and tugging them on. "We will find her. It was still sunny when she left, so a vampire couldn't have gotten her. You go check the Espresso Pump and see if she made it there. I'll stop by Spike's crypt and see if he's heard from her at all. Then we'll meet at The Magic Box ASAP."

Buffy walked across the room, taking Willow by the shoulders. Buffy had freaked out plenty of times when her mom or any of the Scoobies were in trouble. She remembered how scared she'd been when Spike stayed behind in The Initiative to give Buffy time to escape, and she didn't even know if she'd loved him then. She could imagine what Willow was going through, but they had to keep it together if they were going to figure it all out. Hell, maybe they were losing it over nothing and Tara was just helping Giles with inventory or something.

"I promise you, Wills, we will find her."

xxxxx

Spike had to make a blood run, and he figured he might as well stock up on a carton of cigs while he was at it. He'd parted with the Slayer around midnight, stocked up his mini-fridge, and tucked the Pall Malls in his storage coffin. He'd been asleep in his armchair for a couple of hours, long enough for the sun to rise, when he heard his door clank open. His girl's style, but not his girl's scent, or heartbeat. Spike stood and spun around. He found himself face-to-face with the great git they called Adam.

"Hello, Spike."

"Leave or I'll kick your shiny metal bum out myself."

"Spike, there is no need to posture. You cannot defeat me in hand-to-hand combat. If you thought that you could, you would have tried at some point in the previous months."

"So, what? You've come to finally off me, then?" Spike started backing off, toward the stone slab that covered the hole in the floor. Downstairs hadn't been furnished since he'd been Back to the Future-d, but it'd give him an escape route through the tunnels if he needed it. He wished Tara was around with her electric zapping spell.

"I do not wish to harm you. You could be a valuable asset to my new species."

"Right. Slayer 'n I just hafta reproduce on command, that it? Hate to tell you, Terminator, but there's a reason we bite to make new vamps rather n' shag."

"I have a deal to offer you. I will allow you and your Slayer to remain untouched if you do not interfere in my work."

"Right. And the Slayer's, what? Gonna just let you chop the rest of town to bits? Fat friggin' chance."

"You will not consider it? I believe it is a fair offer."

"And I believe I told you to shove off."

"That is unfortunate. Agent Finn made me believe that you were intent on your own survival."

"Agent—"

Before Spike could get the name out, Adam had lifted an arm, blue electricity shooting out at him. Spike was really getting tired of being electrocuted. He collapsed to the ground, twitching. Adam plodded over to him, picking him up like a ragdoll, and then everything went black.

xxxxx

Buffy had called Giles at The Magic Box before she even left the dorm, but he hadn't seen or heard from Tara at all. She ran by Spike's crypt next. His fridge was full and his cigarettes were stored away, but unopened. His duster was on the armchair. She didn't know where he could be in the middle of the day without so much as his duster to keep the sun from crisping him, but he had to have been around after they'd said goodnight.

On her way to The Magic Box, she ran over the entirety of their conversation from the night before in her head. Spike mentioned the errand run, that he'd probably sleep in because they'd worn each other out sparring. But nothing about going to Willy's and staying there all day, or coming to hang out with her at the dorm. He wasn't exactly the leave-a-note-on-the-crypt-door type. Buffy tried her best not to panic, not to go to the worst case _The Initiative staked Spike_ scenario. There hadn't been dust. There would have been obvious dust, right? Or at least signs that he'd fought. Spike would've fought and...

"Buffy?"

She'd hardly realized that she'd walked straight into the magic shop. Giles was standing with a broom and pan in front of the register.

"Has Willow been by yet?"

Giles cleared his throat, making eyes to his right. Buffy turned to find Willow, sitting cross-legged on the table with her eyes closed like she was doing yoga. A little blue light sputtered in front of her and then died. Willow muttered something, the blue light returned, and then it died again. Willow huffed, jumping off of the table.

"It's not working."

"If you are in an emotional state, it's going to affect your spell work," Giles said, resting the broom and dustpan against the counter next to him. "It contends with your ability to concentrate."

Willow wrapped her arms around herself. "I just keep thinking about going to Tara and asking her to help. She's got this..." Her lower lip started to wobble. "This little smile, and it feels like everything's calm and I can do anything."

Buffy rushed to Wills, holding her tight and rubbing her back like it might help at all.

"Where's Spike?" Giles whispered, like if he spoke at a normal volume the pair of them might just lose it.

"I dunno," Buffy said, still clinging to Willow. She couldn't let her fall apart, not now. They needed her fully functioning if they were going to figure this all out. That's what she needed: She needed a job. Buffy pulled away. "The Espresso Pump?"

"She was there around sunset." Willow sniffed.

"So she probably was back in her room. Hey, you hacked The Initiative cameras, right? When they had me trapped?"

"Yeah...?"

"See if you can hack into any of the ones on campus. Look for last night, see if she got there? You can do that, right?"

"Yeah!" Wills' eyes brightened a little and she sat at the table she'd just been sitting on, yanking her laptop open.

Giles stood at Buffy's side, and she turned to him. Now she was the one with arms wrapped around her tummy. Too many missing people—Tara, Spike, Riley—and their only connection was the Scooby gang. "You couldn't find Spike?" Giles whispered, keeping an eye on Willow as she typed away frantically.

"They didn't even have a remote firewall in place. Amateurs," Willow muttered.

"Found his coat and his cigarettes. No vampire."

"With sunlight..."

"He could be in the tunnels or something. Spike can take care of himself. He lasted a hundred years before me, right?" Buffy hadn't let the panic really seep in, forcing herself to ignore the thousand possibilities that ended with Spike being dusty.

Giles rested a comforting hand on her shoulder with a small smile. "Buffy, you do not have to put on a brave face. I know how much you care for him. We will find him."

Buffy remembered her own words to Willow, that they'd find Tara. She did need the brave face, the Slayer face, to make sure that nothing happened to anyone they cared about. She squeezed Giles' hand for a second. "Xander had no progress on Riley?"

"None. He took one of the radios with him, and there's static interference near the caves. So we suspect Adam is in one of them..."

"But there's too many to search, especially if he keeps moving."

Buffy chewed her lip. If there was radio static whatever, then that might explain why The Initiative just couldn't find Riley themselves, if they'd even bothered looking. Could Adam have grabbed Tara? Why would he bother her? He'd lost Warren, but Tara didn't know computers, so it would've made more sense to grab Willow. But without Ethan, maybe Tara's magical know-how was useful to him.

They all jumped when the shop door opened. A guy, only slightly older than Buffy and Willow, stood there. He was fair-haired with a fuzzy beard and a tattered book in his hand.

"We haven't re-opened under new ownership yet," Giles said.

"Oh, I don't want to buy anythin'," the guy said in a Southern accent. "I just wanted to sell this to ya. Need some gas money."

Giles made that disapproving clucking noise, moving to the register. "Yes, alright, fine. How much do you want for it?"

"Twen—"

"Who are you?" Willow demanded, standing. She looked from her computer to the guy again.

"Donny Maclay," the guy said, sliding the book over to Giles.

Willow rushed forward, picking the book up. "This is Tara's. He was in her building last night."

Now the guy turned to her. "Excuse me?"

"This is Tara's book."

"Maclay?" Giles narrowed his eyes. "Brother, perhaps, or cousin?"

"I don't..." Donny began backing up toward the door. Willow reached out and grabbed his arm. He shoved her, sending her to the floor. Buffy stepped forward, twisting the guy's arm behind his back and pushing him against the counter.

"Now, I'm going to be upfront," she said, her voice even. "I'm already having a bad day. My boyfriend is MIA and one of my friends has apparently been kidnapped. So, you can either answer the nice redhead's questions or I can feed you your own arm. Clear?"

"Yes, alright, clear!" Donny yelped when Buffy released him. He cradled his wrist. "You can't be that strong. You're a girl."

"Protein bars and spinach," Buffy said, hands on her hips.

"You're a witch, too, aren't you?"

"No," Buffy said, pointing to Willow. "But she is."

"Where is Tara?" Giles demanded, removing his glasses.

"Where she belongs. She's a demon. Set me on fire once when we were kids, she tell you that?"

"Did you hurt her?" Willow's eyes glinted black for a second.

"She hasn't been answerin' any of our letters or calls. Our dad talked to some people, told them about her demon blood."

Giles tilted his head, then spun to Willow. "Demon blood?" Wills only shook her head.

"She's got the devil in her, and he had them get her so we can take her home."

"Them who?" Buffy demanded. She grabbed him by the wrist again and twisted. When she looked at Giles, she expected a protest or something. Instead, he just glared at Beard-o.

"These army guys. We came into town, lookin' for Tara. We went to her college and these guys were talkin' about huntin' demons. We thought they could help us find her."

It took every kind of effort for Buffy to release his arm instead of break it, but she managed.

"You braindead twit," Giles spat.

"They'll kill her," Willow gasped.

Donny made a run for the door. Willow raised her hand in his direction.

"Let him go, Willow," Giles said. "That was all he knew. And whether they are on civil terms or not, you know Tara would feel guilty if you harmed her relative."

"If the Initiative has her..." Buffy didn't know what to say. They were in trouble? Getting Tara out safely was going to be a bitch? She might already be dead, or... or getting experimented on, like they'd done with Buffy or like Adam had done with Buffy and Spike?

"We have to go in there. Now."

"Willow, wait. Think. We need a plan. And more than just the two of us."

"There's no time." Willow tilted her head at Buffy. "I can't just leave her there, knowing that every minute..."

"I know. And we will get her. But we go in smart."

"Buffy's right, Willow. Perhaps there's a way to amplify the sp—"

"You don't understand what she means to me, do you? I love her. She's my everything."

"I know," Buffy said, her voice a little harsher. She didn't have the time for a meltdown, not now. "I get it."

"Yeah, you get it." Willow picked up Tara's book from the table, and a couple of others, holding them to her torso like a shield. "It's just silly, mopey Willow, right?"

The door opened again. Buffy swore, before looking, that if it was Tara's brother person again she was going to knock him out with one hit. Instead, it was Xand and Anya. "Is there a party we weren't invited to?" Xander said with a big goofy smile.

"Tara's missing," Buffy said. "We're going to get her."

"What weapons do you want?" Xander said, already making a breakneck pace for the practice room in the back.

"Crossbow, two knives."

"On it, General Buff."

Buffy glanced at Willow, who was guiltily eyeing the ground. She dropped her books on the table again.

"Anya, Giles, you two are on Spike duty."

"Spike duty?" Anya asked. "Is it difficult or time consuming?"

"We'll find him, Buffy."

"Spike's missing, too? Is he in the same place Tara is?"

"God, I hope not."

"Willow, if you could somehow enhance Tara's electricity spell, you should be able to disable their security temporarily."

"Do you have a Nyxian Talisman?" Willow's face had hardened over.

"Yes," Giles said, shifting some boxes behind the counter. "Ah, yes, of course!"


	35. Chapter 34

_For RKF22, Quindecim, madcloisfan, RAGAnne, and tomieharley._

 **Chapter 34**

When Spike woke up, the first thing he smelled was Captain Cardboard.

He kept his eyes shut, trying to get a sense of where he was. Last he could remember he was at his crypt. Definitely wasn't where he was now. Could hear mechanical doings and, aside from Finn, the place smelled... too clean. Disinfected. Like Soldier Boy's room had been. Spike's eyes flew open, panic at the idea that this was The Initiative overtaking the instinct to investigate before revealing he was no longer takin' a snooze.

"Hostile 17?"

Spike turned his head. He was laying on some sort of metal table. Finn was secured to a slab of metal of his own, only he was upright. Spike checked his wrists. No restraints. Well, that made things fairly easy, didn't it? He propelled off of the thing, stalking forward. "What are you doin' here?" he demanded of Finn.

No one else was around. They were surrounded on all sides by what looked like hospital equipment. It was a near replica of the place where they cut open vamps and other baddies in The Initiative, only no men in greens or lab coat types moseying about.

"There's something in me. Professor Walsh did something, a chip."

Spike's eyebrows furrowed as he looked for something to break the boy loose. He didn't know if he particularly wanted to free him, but the Slayer'd be miffed if Spike just left him there. "What? Like the tech-y bit you lot put in me? Didn't realize you'd been hooked on drinkin' blood of the innocent." Scalpel, useless. Hand saw, likely useless. What could chop up metal without hurtin' him? This'd be easier if he could just lop off the boy's hands.

"No. It's a command center. It's right above my heart, I think."

"Command center?" Something about it seemed vaguely familiar, but Spike had never much cared about Iowa other than bein' livid at him, or bein' jealous because that big hunk of personality-lessness got to be with Buffy.

"Anything Adam says, I've got no choice but to do it. He's got me programmed like a computer."

"Not fun, is it?"

"It's different. You're a monster."

Spike chuckled, picking up a screwdriver. "Yeah? Girl still chose me, dinn't she?"

"What?"

"Oh, never you mind." Spike batted his eyelashes at Corn-for-Brains, starting to unscrew the restraints on the boy's wrist. "At any rate, I wager we should try n' get outta here, yeah?"

"Uh, sure." Finn eyed Spike skeptically, like he was still trying to figure out the got-the-girl bit. One wrist was freed, then the other. "First, the chip has to come out."

"Right." Spike tossed the screwdriver over his shoulder, picking up the scalpel in its place. He sneered. "This might pinch a bit."

xxxxx

"Dormeo."

When Willow said the word, the two army guys in front of them collapsed to the floor. Buffy and Xander each picked up one of their electricity guns, leading the way further inside. They'd used the cave entrance Buffy had escaped through the night she and Spike had come down here from the Lowell House party. They weren't sure how they were going to find which hall or room or whatever Tara was in, but Buffy figured making their way to the camera room had to yield something useful... hopefully. If they didn't find Tara soon, she was pretty sure that Willow would start with the turning of people into rats and setting fires or whatever witchy stuff she could.

They turned down one hall, then another. Buffy and Xander kept walking until they realized Willow had stopped. Wills was standing behind them, her head tilted.

"What's wrong?" Xander asked, checking over their shoulders.

"Tara. I think..." Willow pointed down a different hallway. "My spell. She's close."

"Worth a shot, right?" Buffy nodded, sprinting down in that direction with the other two in tow. It was only a couple of feet before they saw the rooms. Buffy's slayer senses were screaming so loud inside of her that it kind of hurt. Demons and vampires all over the place. This must be where they kept them between experiments.

"Baby?" Willow called, looking into each of the cages as she passed them.

"W-w-Willow?"

Wills stopped about halfway down the line, looking into the cage on her left. Buffy edged over, making sure no commandos were on their way. No alarms must've been a good sign. Inside one of the rooms, Tara held her arms around herself. Her hair hung in front of her face and she didn't quite make eye contact with any of them. Her arms were covered in cuts and bruises, and her sweater and long skirt were torn all over.

"Baby, what did they do to you?" Willow choked out, moving toward the room.

"No, don't!" Tara held up a hand and took a step back. Wills froze in place. "There's, um, electricity. Keeps me in. Spells don't work."

"I'm not leaving you here."

"How do they get you out, jailbird?" Xander asked, slapping on an only slightly-subdued goofy grin.

Tara reciprocated with a crooked smile. "There's this card? They swipe it by the lights over there."

"On it." Xander backtracked toward the two army guys they'd knocked out.

"Buffy, we've got to stop them," Willow said. "We can't just let them—"

"We will, I promise."

Buffy looked up as the lights on the walls flashed silver. There weren't any alarms, but she felt like someone was being alerted. Buffy looked for Xander, then worried when she didn't see him that he'd been captured. She'd sort out breaking the bones of whoever thought that was a good idea later; right now, before they could run off looking for him, they needed to focus on keeping Tara from more experiments.

"Willow, my father..." Tara licked her lips, turning her attention to the floor. "My father told them I have demon blood. That's why they took me. To s-s-see if that was true."

"Yeah, your cousin or whoever mentioned."

"M-m-my what?"

"Donny. Charming little bitter dude with the beard who you probably should've set on fire more as a kid?" Buffy explained with a flick of her eyebrows.

"You met... You met Donny?"

"Yeah," Wills continued. "He came into The Magic Box trying to sell your mom's grimoire to Giles."

"But it's okay." Tara approached the invisible forcefield thingy, standing just shy of touching Willow on the other side. "Spike told me. When he came back, before any of you knew, Spike told me it wasn't true, that I'd never be a demon."

"Spike told you?" Buffy lowered her eyebrows and titled her head. He'd gone out of his way to make sure that Tara knew that. Maybe it was one of the non-aura-reading reasons she trusted him so much, and way before any of the rest of them. It certainly didn't serve him to tell her, since he hadn't made a big deal of it to get points with Buffy or any of the Scoobies.

"I'd never believe you were a demon," Wills whispered, smiling.

Xander burst back into the hall with a card in his hand. "Time to go now."

"How many?" Buffy demanded as he swiped the card and freed Tara. The witches hugged.

"Uh, a whole squad of 'em flying toward us and—"

As Willow and Tara were breaking off their hug, they heard some kind of zapping. The lights shut down, red lights blinking in the hall instead. Suddenly the demons in the other cages lunged out into the red-lit hallway.

"Holy cryptozoology, Batman," Xander said.

A squad of army guys entered from where the Scoobies had. They immediately started shooting the demons with electricity, but some of the army boys were knocked out first. Before Buffy could even tell who was who, the demons had the humans in the room outnumbered two-to-one. She shot the nearest with her stolen zapper gun, and Xander did the same to another, but before long a dozen of them were approaching.

Buffy checked over her shoulder. Tara was holding the necklace thing Giles had given them and muttering something. Wills had run to the one of the card scanner things and was pushing buttons. Buffy heard Xander zap another demon. Across the hall, a second group of army men shouted as they ran in, attacking the demons. Suddenly, even the red lights went out. Buffy could see a little, if she squinted, but she thought that was a slayer perk more than anything.

"Nice work, Wills!" Buffy said.

"That wasn't me."

They all paused.

"Tara?" Xand finally guessed.

"N-no?"

"Well, running now, questions later," Xander said, a hand on Buffy's arm.

"Run where?" Wills demanded.

"Fiat lux."

The moment Tara said the words, little red firefly lights swirled around them.

"Oh," Wills said, smacking herself in the face. "Duh."

Buffy glanced back at the demons, currently occupied with Initiative boys. "Running time now?"

"Good plan," Xander said. With that, the four of them took off in the opposite direction they'd entered from. "Any idea where to go here?"

"That's the only exit I knew," Buffy said. The Initiative was even more terrifying without any noise. She guessed everyone was in headquarters or something trying to get the power up and running again, but not even machines were beeping or anything.

"Lowell House?"

"No good," Willow said. "If the power's out, elevators will be, too."

"We can't be stuck in here," Buffy said. They were running through the place like they had a goal in mind, but mostly she figured it was so they all might feel better, like they were actually doing something instead of just trapped.

"They... They t-t-took me through this entrance by where they'd had Buffy. Up by this trap door type thing on campus?"

"Can you get us there?"

"I think so."

xxxxx

"I don't understand," Finn said. "Why would you help me?"

Spike was supporting him, his left shoulder under Finn's right. The boy's chest was still drippin' blood from where Spike'd done a hack job of tearing out his chip. (Spike had taken a certain satisfaction in having sliced the wanker open.)

"'Cause Buffy'd want me to," Spike said. Something in Finn's blood was chemical and unappetizing; Spike could tell without even having to take a taste. "And I'm hopin' you might know more about the big hunk o' junk than we do."

"I haven't even seen him much." Finn winced, holding a hand to his wound. "Mostly he just gives me speeches about how we're brothers or whatever and then leaves."

"Sounds 'bout right."

Finally, they came to a door. Spike prayed that it led somewhere other than The Initiative. He didn't want to be there any more often than was necessary. Spike struggled to get the door open, then eased Finn in first. The entire place was pitch black. Spike vamped, combing through the place and only seeing mechanical stuff. No heartbeats, no voices, except...

Her scent.

Sunshine and coconut.

"Slayer?" Spike called out. She wasn't close enough to hear her heartbeat. He hoped she wasn't close enough to... "Where's Adam?" Spike demanded, stopping in place. "Where did he say he was goin'?"

"I dunno," Finn said. "I think he said something about access codes."

Spike's jaw locked. He saw an easy exit to their left, and when he caught sight of the oversized tinfoil oven he knew it was definitely The Initiative. He couldn't leave, not until he made sure his girl was safe. "I'm goin' to find Buffy. I can leave you here or you can come with me, but I'm goin'."

"Is Buffy in trouble?"

"If she's 'round here, prolly."

"I'll come with you."

"Ain't you just the noble hero?" Spike rolled his eyes as they moved forward.

"Yeah. Comes with the territory of not being a monster."

Spike gripped the soldier a little too tight, and when Finn took a sharp inhale of breath in response Spike grinned. "Last I checked I hadn't sent one of the white hats into a dog fightin' pit." He could hear heartbeats now, faint and faraway. Too far to distinguish if any of them were his girl or not, but it was something.

"I didn't know Professor Walsh would do that. I really thought she just wanted to ask questions, and when she saw that Buffy wasn't a threat to us, she'd be satisfied."

"Like hell."

"It's true."

"Well, lucky for all of us the bitch is dead. Guess Warren's good for one thing, anyway."

"Let's just make sure Buffy is okay."

When Spike glanced next to him, the tin soldier was gritting his teeth as he spoke, and his heart had sped up. Suddenly the other heartbeats were getting closer. Running? Spike paused, almost tripping Captain Cardboard in the process, as he listened.

xxxxx

When Buffy crashed into something, she simultaneously tried to balance herself and see what it was she'd crashed into.

"Slayer?"

"Spike?" Buffy tilted her head, squinting. Tara redirected the magic fireflies to her left. Spike was holding up... "Riley?"

"Hey, Buffy." Riley's lips twitched into something that was way too pained to be a smile. "I can probably get us out of here if..." He cringed, pressing his hand to his chest. "Can we get the lights on?"

"I don't even know what turned them off," Willow said, shaking her head.

"Here, Spike, need some help?" Without waiting for an answer, Xander took Riley's left arm around his shoulders, supporting his other half.

Spike studied Xand. "Thanks, Harris."

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Xander mumbled. "Which way?"

"Uh, t-t-the left, I think?" Tara said, pointing.

The group of them continued in the direction she'd indicated, walking in super awkward uncomfortable silence for all of five seconds.

"What are you doing here?" Buffy and Spike asked each other at once.

"Tara got taken. By The Initiative," Buffy said.

"My dad told them about the demon blood," Tara whispered, guiding the lights in front of them with twitching fingers.

"You're a demon?" Riley panted, clearly about ready to pass out.

"She's not," Spike said, shooting a look to Xander, then Willow and Buffy. "I can vouch for her, if you don't believe her. I—"

"They believe me," Tara said, smiling at him.

"Yeah, well, we'd be demented not to," Xander said with a nod.

"Your turn," Buffy said. The exit was close now. She could see the outline of a door if she really tried. Wasn't more than half the distance of Restfield. "And what's wrong with Riley?"

"Emergency operation, and I ain't trained," Spike said. "He had a chip, had to do whatever Adam said, so I cut it out for 'im. Helter Skelter came to m'crypt, offered to leave you and me alone if we let him do whatever he wanted with the rest of Sunnyhell. I told him no, and he took me with him."

"So where's—"

The lights all came on at once.

"What the hell?" Buffy looked around. No military, scientists, or demons in sight.

"They must've gotten to the command room, activated the back-up generators," Riley said. He struggled to stand on his own, and Xander and Spike both released him. Though he was leaning to one side and his shirt was soaked in blood, he mostly managed. "I should go see if they need... if they need help."

"You should go see a doctor," Buffy countered.

The entire floor shook. All of them turned to where the Scoobies had been retreating from. It suddenly dawned on them that it wasn't anyone in The Initiative who had decided to turn the lights back on.


	36. Chapter 35

_For Quindecim, RKF22, RAGAnne, and madcloisfan. I really appreciate the reviews!_

 _Sorry for some tense chapters. Promise to make it up to you guys with some cute and sexy chapters later. ;)_

 **Chapter 35**

"Crap. Spike?"

"Yeah, Slayer?"

"How do you feel about an all-out brawl?"

Spike suddenly stood at her side. Adam was walking toward them, in no rush at all. Xander came up on Spike's other side, and Willow and Tara on the other side of Buffy. They stood together, a united front, when Adam finally reached them.

"Spike, I had hoped that you and Agent Finn would speak amongst yourselves and come to the correct conclusion in my absence. And I hoped that the Slayer might come to rescue you on her own."

"Scoobies don't work alone, bolts-for-brains," Xander said. Buffy was surprised to hear Spike chuckle next to her.

"I am beginning to understand that as a strategy of hers in battle, yes. The Slayer seems to understand the benefit of combined skills."

"The Slayer is standing right here, bozo," Buffy said. "So let's see what you've got." She waved toward herself.

"Agent Finn, come to me," Adam said, looking off behind them.

"Sorry, mate," Spike growled, tongue sliding over his fangs. "We deactivated the shock collar."

As Spike lunged toward Adam, Xander shot the zapper gun, hitting both Spike and Adam in the process. Spike, completely rigid, hit the ground. Adam, on the other hand, crackled with blue electricity. It all went to the glowy circle near his center and he grinned.

Buffy tossed her zapper gun to Riley, who caught it one-handed. She pulled a dagger from her jacket. Adam had already replaced the demon eye Spike had hit with the crossbow after the Ethan incident. When she pulled back her arm to aim for the human half of his face, he raised his own arm. What looked like a gun unfolding from his forearm.

"No!" Willow shouted. She wrapped her arms around Tara, pushing her to the ground as Buffy dashed out of the way of the bullets Adam was spraying toward them.

Buffy heard shouting around them, but she laser-focused on Adam. Nowhere but his facial region would be affected by anything less than a bulldozer. She hopped to her feet. Adam swung his arm at her, but she swerved and artfully drove the knife into his human-side ear, pulling it back without hesitation.

Adam threw his head back, grabbing at the human side of his face as blood (and some goopy snot-looking stuff) gushed out. Buffy fell to her knees at Spike's side. He was struggling to even sit up, his entire body stuck the way he'd fallen. Buffy grabbed him under his arms, pulling him to his feet. She glanced at Wills and Tara just as they said "reclaim your gift." Suddenly most of Adam's body went still next to them. His one arm still pawed at his wounded ear, but it looked like he couldn't even scream about it. The glowing circle near his heart was dark and he was wheezing.

Tara grabbed Buffy's wrist. "It won't last. Only works on the robot parts."

"But I could—" Buffy stopped when she looked around her. Spike was standing, but looked ready to collapse again; Wills looked about to cry; Tara was still all torn up; Xander was struggling to keep the still-bleeding Riley from passing out. Buffy clenched her teeth. She spun, aiming her blade at the side of Adam's neck. It barely made an impact. She kicked him square in the chest, sending him skidding ten feet across the floor. "Let's go."

xxxxx

"And you said that the electricity deactivation spell _did_ work against his mechanical pieces?" Rupes asked, sipping some tea.

Tara, hands shaking around her own cup of some sort of herbal brew, nodded. She sat cross-legged on the floor of Giles' flat, a blanket wrapped around herself. Buffy sat in Spike's lap, her legs over the side of the armchair. She'd hardly looked up since they'd come over, instead tracing patterns in Spike's shirt. He'd have to ask her later what had her so preoccupied once they were apart from the Scooby crew. Wills, Harris, and Anya had squeezed themselves onto the couch. Finn had insisted on being brought to the Lowell House, and that he didn't know any more than he'd already said. Giles was pacing as they ran through the night's events again.

"Well, this is a good sign."

"If you miss the part where they were all almost ground into a fine paste, yes," Anya volunteered.

"Thank you for your insightful commentary."

"Well, I'm just saying. I personally prefer my boyfriend not... in... paste form."

"Ahn."

"If we combine it with Tara's potion, we should have no problem shutting him down," Willow said. "At least for five minutes. Then one of us can figure out deactivating him permanently... I think. I'd also like to hack into The Initiative and destroy all of their files, personally."

"Witch's got a fair point," Spike muttered. He tightened his arm around Buffy's hip, hoping she'd say something, anything. Even if she were just bein' an airhead or shouting or joking. The silence was reminding him of those days after her resurrection, the blank stares, and he couldn't bear it. "It's not just Adam that's the problem. What's to keep 'em from cooking up a whole army of him?"

"Well, Professor Walsh is dead," Xander said. "So there's that bonus."

"Spike is right," Buffy whispered. "We can't let them repeat him."

"I have a suggestion, but I hesitate to make it." Giles set his cup down. He removed his glasses, chewing on the arm of them.

"What?"

"Spike, you've given me the barest details of the years to come, up to your death. You remember some of the events surrounding Adam."

"But since he was working for Adam last time, he doesn't know how we beat him," Buffy said, looking up to the watcher.

"Hold the phone," Harris said, standing. "You were working for Adam last time? You should be able to tell us a hell of a lot more."

"Witchy ritual. You sent the Slayer in to fight him. Mostly I wanted to get off o' my leash."

"Remind me why we trust him again." The boy rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in the air.

"And Ri-Riley couldn't help either?" Tara asked.

The Slayer shook her head. "It sounds like Adam kept him asleep a lot of the time. Riley knew about the plan to, um, have Spike and I... at the Lowell House. But beyond the hybrid army he's been bragging about, nothing really useful."

"Well, it's understandable, I guess," Red said. "He's been through a lot, what with the kidnapping and hostage shenanigans."

"What does this have to do with what I told you, Watcher?"

"I was thinking that, perhaps, if Willow and Tara and maybe Anya were willing to join me, we could visit the idea of a memory spell."

"A memory spell?" Buffy twisted in Spike's lap so that she was facing the group. He shifted his arms around her waist, and she laid her arms on top of his. "How would that work?"

"Well, I've never done one before. But I imagine some chanting and candles and perhaps a magic gourd."

"A what now?"

"And what, then? You climb inside my bleedin' skull like I'm the Statue of Liberty? No thank you. 'Sides, I told you I didn't want to talk about too much, not yet."

"It would be laser focused, only on any events surrounding Adam, like showing us a video tape."

"An' I don't want you in my head, Watcher."

Buffy wriggled in his lap. "I'll do it."

"What?" Rupert, Xander, and Spike all said at once.

"What? I'm the closest of any of us to Spike. You guys can do the spell stuff, and I'll look for anything that can help us get rid of Adam and The Initiative."

"It's not a totally outlandish idea," Giles said with a shrug. He returned his glasses to their rightful place. "It would get us the information we need."

"And what about anything you don't? You do realize what you're playin' with, right?" Spike couldn't let them know about Bit. She might not come about that way. And if he let Buffy know about her mum or bein' torn out of heaven, he'd never forgive himself.

"We can figure it out," Red snapped. "We're not totally incompetent."

Spike opened his mouth, but the gentle witch interrupted him.

"It's been a long day. Can we, um, maybe talk more about it in the morning? Give us time to think?"

"And sleep," Harris added. "Fighting Frankenfreak really takes it outta ya."

"Sure," the Slayer said, her voice small. "Sundown tomorrow at The Magic Box?"

xxxxx

Buffy kept catching Spike looking at her out of the corner of her eye. They were walking back to Stevenson. Willow and Xander had invited them all for a late night Doublemeat Palace run, but she didn't much feel like hanging out right now. Spike had offered a quick slaying visit to the cemeteries, but she turned that down, too. Now they were walking back to campus in silence.

"What?" Buffy finally demanded in front of Stevenson.

"Nothin'," Spike said. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his duster.

"Whatever." Buffy turned toward the dorm's doors, but Spike grabbed her by the arm and she faced him again.

"I just... Are you alright, Slayer? You've been awful introspective."

"We're screwed against Adam."

Buffy paused, her heart beating too quickly at the confession. Suddenly, saying the one thing that had been on her mind all night let her say the rest of it, too.

"Did you see us back there?" Buffy began pacing, waving her hands as she spoke. "We were a mess! You and Xander tried attacking at the same time, Willow didn't think I'd help her protect Tara, and bullets? Seriously? I use pointy wooden objects. What the hell am I supposed to do against _bullets_?" Buffy glared at a random co-ed who was wandering by and gaping at her. He ran in the opposite direction. "We had all the coordination of the three blind mice on a bad day."

"Pet, we'll go in prepared next time. No more Initiative visits until we've got all our affairs in order, yeah?"

"I couldn't even keep you safe!" Buffy rubbed her forehead, wishing her shouting-induced headache would go away. "Adam came and took you and for all I knew could've killed you and I never would've even known. Hell, The Initiative took Tara and I only knew because Wills was looking for her. I'm supposed to be the Slayer, saver of innocents. I can't even keep my friends safe."

Spike closed in on her, grabbing both of her shoulders. Buffy tilted her head at him. "You can't do everything yourself, a'right? You'll figure it out. You hero-types always do."

"All we have right now is a plan to hold Adam in place for five minutes. We've got no idea how to actually keep him down, or how to keep The Initiative from hurting you or anyone else. I'm tired, Spike." Buffy's eyes stung, tears escaping her. "I'm just so tired."

"Shh." He held her close to him. Buffy took comfort in the feel of his leather jacket against her face. "Get some kip. We'll visit the watcher tomorrow, yeah? He's got a good head on his shoulders. We'll get things sorted, and we'll be just fine."

Buffy pulled back, examining Spike. "Did you just compliment Giles?"

"No."

Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"Well, alright. But only to make you feel better. And don't tell Rupert. He'll think I don't hate him as much as I used to."

Buffy smirked. "You're such a freak."

Spike leaned in, nuzzling her ear. "You love it."

Buffy slapped him, playfully, in the chest. "Perv."

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow. Buffy instantly felt better, the routine teasing bringing her back to some sense of normalcy. Sleep would probably help, too. Then tomorrow...

"Are you sure you're okay with the memory spell?"

"What?"

"The thing that Giles wants to do? So we can fight Adam better?"

Spike shifted on his feet, averting his eyes. "There are things I've done, things that happened the first time around... I don't want anyone to know about 'em, least of all you. If I caused you any pain..."

Buffy reached forward and grabbed his hand. Spike looked to her, shocked out of his train of thought. "We've got this."

Spike smiled, kissing her on the forehead. "That's my girl."

Buffy wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. She made a happy little hum as she snuggled against his chest.


	37. Chapter 36

_This one goes out to RKF22, Quindecim, RAGAnne, Caskett93, madcloisfan, tomieharley, Cloongarvin, and the guest reviewer._

 _I'm excited to be sharing this on my birthday, because it's one of the chapters I've had the most fun playing with and writing. Again, there's still tension coming. But just for a minute. Then some fluffy goodness. I promise!_

 **Chapter 36**

It took a week for Giles to find the spell he'd been talking about. Buffy had expected Spike to back out of it by the time that happened. He'd been twitchy all week, refused to even talk about it when Buffy brought it up. Now they were in Giles' magic shop. Willow had found this huge, pretty emerald in the inventory room, and Anya had gotten some kind of tea thing from an organic shop down the street.

"This can only end badly," Anya muttered, putting the tea bag in the mug of hot water next to the register.

"That's my girl," Xander said, smiling over at Buffy. "Always big with the morale boost."

"I'm serious," she insisted. "Memory spells are tricky, and Willow isn't a very good witch."

"I'm sure she'll do fine," Buffy said, playing with one of her hoop earrings. "At any rate, could you try not freaking Spike out when he gets here? We need some kind of advantage over Adam."

"Yeah. We haven't seen or heard from the shiny mastermind in a while. It's starting to wig me out," Xand said.

Willow and Tara walked in from the back room, Wills carrying the emerald with her and Tara the spell book.

"How're you feeling, Buffy?" Tara asked.

"Oh, you know. About to enter the mind of my previously mass murdering boyfriend. Peachy with a side of keen."

Tara squeezed Buffy's shoulder for a second. The front door of The Magic Box opened. Spike strolled inside, followed by Giles, who closed and locked the door behind him.

"Is everything prepared?" Giles asked. He held a huge bowl that looked like it was meant for salads, except it was filled with twigs and this brown paper bag. He set the bowl on the counter, picking up the bag and pulling a plastic container of blood out of it.

"How're you doin', Summers?" Spike whispered. He moved up to her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder and his arms around her waist.

"I'm fine. This'll work. I know it will." Buffy hoped he didn't catch how hard it was for her to breathe. She was pretty sure that this was the _Screw it up and be vegetables for the rest of forever_ kind of deal. "How're you?"

"Happy this'll be over with in a minute."

Spike kissed her cheek, then moved toward the space Anya and Giles had cleared on the floor for them. Anya was currently putting out white candles in a circle. Giles added some stuff to the blood container, and Tara added something to the tea Anya had brewed.

Xander held his hand out. "Spike, you got a light?"

"Didn't know you'd picked up the habit, Harris."

Spike pulled the lighter from his coat pocket and tossed it to Xand. Then Spike shrugged off his coat and pitched it onto the table halfway across the room. Xander started lighting the candles as Giles and Tara whispered over the spell book. Willow approached Buffy, grabbing her hands. The pair of them locked eyes.

"This is going to help us beat him," Wills whispered. "We'll be chugging victory mocha lattes at the Espresso Pump before Adam even knows what hit him."

"Do you think..." Buffy glanced at Spike, pulling on her garnet necklace. He could hear her from this distance, but he was bickering with Xand about something. "I just don't want to ruin things, you know? If anything goes wrong." Buffy sighed. "And that makes me sound like a selfish fifteen-year-old."

"No it doesn't," Willow whispered back, glancing at Tara. "I get it. Tara didn't want to let me know she might be a demon. She was afraid she'd lose me, that she'd lose everything. But you know what Spike is." Willow smiled, wrinkling her nose just a little. "And when you love someone, it doesn't matter, does it? What they used to be?"

Buffy pulled Willow into a tight hug. "Thank you."

"Air. Need air," Wills gasped.

Buffy detached herself, cringing. "Sorry. Slayer hugs."

"Are you ready?" Giles called.

"Let's get this over with," Buffy said, moving toward Spike. The two of them stood, face-to-face, in the middle of the candle circle. Spike smiled at her and Buffy returned the favor.

"You'll want to lay down for this," Tara said, taking the emerald from the counter. "After you drink."

"Kinky," Spike said, raising his scarred eyebrow. Buffy giggled.

"Oh, ew. Every level of ew." Xander grimaced, pulling the blood from next to the register.

"I thought you said this wasn't an orgy spell," Anya protested, sitting over at the table.

"It's not," Giles grumbled, standing with the book just outside of the circle. Tara lit the branches in the bowl with Spike's lighter. "De réir an bhfianaise chuimhne," Giles chanted, "is féidir a fheiceáil sí. As a bhronntanas muid ag iarraidh treoir. Cumhachtaí Go Bí, cabhrú lenár chúis."

Tara held the emerald to fire in the bowl, the entire crystal turning from green to white slowly. "Lig di a fheiceáil," she chanted, "lig di a fheiceáil, lig di a fheiceáil." She placed the crystal next to one of the candles. Xander handed Spike the blood, and Wills handed Buffy the tea. Buffy grimaced, eyeing her drink suspiciously. "It's gingko," Tara said. "Same as is in Spike's blood. Only... I added peppermint to yours, for the taste. And um, burba weed to yours, Spike. To, um... make it warm."

"Thanks ever so." Spike shrugged. "Well, Slayer, cheers." They touched containers, then choked down their drinks all in one go.

"Whoa."

Buffy was super dizzy all of a sudden. Everything had light around it, each thing a different color. Buffy held a hand over her eyes like she was blocking out the sun, looked to Spike. She could only see his outline, his form filled in with shadow. The pair of them moved slowly, laying down on the floor side-by-side. Buffy, whose vision was almost gone entirely now, reached out next to her. Spike's hand found hers and they clasped to one another as darkness took hold.

And then Buffy suddenly heard Spike's voice: "You were a Boy Scout?"

"Parts of me."

Buffy felt like she was spinning on ice, and just when she was about to topple over she saw Spike, sitting on a dingy old couch and smoking, Adam standing across from him.

"There's your—whatcha call it—variable. The Slayer's got pals. You want her evenin' the odds in a fight, you _don't_ want her Slayerettes muckin' about."

"Take them away from her."

"There's a plan. She's workin' solo she won't have a chance to come after us when the wild rumpus begins. Plus it'll make her miserable, and I never get tired of that."

Buffy scoffed as they kept talking. She tried to remember Spike didn't have a soul then, but still. This was no good anyway. They needed something to defeat Adam, not the way he'd tried to beat the Scoobies. The room swirled into browns and greens and black. Buffy was watching Spike burst through a metal door after an oversized, hairy Bigfoot-looking demon.

When he snapped its neck, she turned to the other side of the room. Giles, Willow, and Xander were sitting in a circle on the floor, with lit candles and some kind of squash thing in the middle of them. They had out four cards. Buffy squinted, concentrating as hard as she could. She felt like her nose was about to bleed, but she could read the cards: Manus; Sophus; Animus; Spiritus.

She missed the conversation going on, felt like she was hearing it through water. Suddenly a door opposite of Spike burst open, and Buffy and Riley walked through. The memory Buffy walked up to Willow. As memory Buffy threw her arms around Willow and Willow started to speak, the world around Buffy started to swirl again. Buffy heard ringing in her ears, saw flashes that went too quick to process:

A grave.

A tower.

A huge cross, smoking.

A pair of hands on fire.

Lightning.

Sunlight in a cave.

An amulet.

A grave.

Spike's bloodied knuckles.

Buffy gasped as she looked at the ceiling of The Magic Box. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like she'd had one of her nightmares about being buried and waking up as a vampire. Spike clutched harder to her hand, sitting straight up next to her. She could hear others calling her name, but she was hyperventilating, and nothing could calm her. Her vision was consumed by Spike as he leaned over her. He reached down, placed his other hand on her cheek. She couldn't hear him, not really, but she could read his lips:

 _Breathe with me, love. That's it._ He exaggerated pulling air in and out of his lungs through pursed lips. Buffy followed his lead until her hearing began to work again, and she could hear Giles somewhere nearby:

"Damn it. Tell me—is she alright?"

Buffy nodded once, then used the hand Spike still held in hers to pull herself into a sitting position.

"I'll get some water," Tara said, skittering off.

"You both alive over there?" Xander asked. "Well, as alive as when we kicked off the fun?"

Buffy faced Xand, mouth hanging open at the idea that he'd check up on Spike, too.

"We're fine, Harris."

"Did I wake up in bizarro world?" Buffy croaked. Tara handed her a glass.

"Buffy, what did you see?" Giles asked, coming around the circle to look at her.

"Um, cards and squash."

"That's... um..." Wills stood next to the register with a pen and paper.

Buffy held her eyes tightly shut, pressing her fingers to her forehead. "Manus. Sophus. Animus. Spiritus."

"Got it," Willow said as she scribbled them down.

"Hand, mind, heart, spirit. Anything else?" Giles pressed.

Buffy gulped down some water, then shook her head. "Nothing useful, no. Wait." Her eyes got wide. "That's why he keeps fighting us, but not killing us."

"What's that, Slayer?"

"He's looking for a weakness. He wants me in on the final battle stuff, but not overpowered. Last time, you gave him the idea of how to beat us. But now..."

"He hasn't quite caught up that the Scoobies keep you stronger." Spike chewed on his lip.

"And there was... You mentioned a wild rumpus? That you had to keep me busy or something?"

"Buggerin' hell, yeah." Spike shut his eyes tight, muttering something to himself. "The Initiative. He released the caged demons to have them n' the army boys duke it out. You keep the score more even, get more demon bits for the assembly line."

"So like he did when you guys broke me out of there?" Tara asked.

"Guess he tried to kick-start the rumpus early, yeah. But from what you all said there weren't many demons in there."

"I don't know about all that," Wills muttered.

"Trust me, last time there were more."

"Body parts again."

Buffy and Spike looked to Xand.

"Body parts. Remember our theory about why he made the whole town sick? He's still trying to make himself a factory. He's going to keep trying, any way he can. Doesn't matter if he has Spike or Warren or anyone else helping him."

"Well there's your Morbid Thought of the Day," Willow whispered.

"Technically, he's making himself a farm to bring product back to his factory."

Everyone looked to Anya, but she didn't seem to particularly notice.

"Willow, Tara," Giles said, "we should start consulting some of the texts in the shop and see what those cards are used for. We currently have the electricity spell and the paralyzing potion as well. Xander and Anya, see if you can find any entrances from the decoding Willow has already done. Or if Riley will talk to you at all. Buffy, Spike, use this time to rest, and then use the practice room as much as possible. I imagine you'll need as much training as you can manage before we face him."


	38. Chapter 37

_For RKF22, Quindecim, madcloisfan, and RAGAnne._

 _Unfortunately, given Xander's talk with Buffy post-Lowell House, Willow's reaction to Tara's kidnapping, and Buffy's talk with Spike about how they're a mess as a team and don't stand a chance against Adam, this has been a long time coming. Add the fact that they've all been stressing and sleep deprived and..._

 _Next couple of chapters are more fluffy and sweet, I promise!_

 **Chapter 37**

Buffy had just gotten out of poetry. She was somehow managing to make it to more classes now than she had in high school. Getting the occasional hour to stop thinking in slay mode was nice. Plus she didn't want to obsess over the things she wasn't supposed to see in Spike's head. There was no way to know exactly what that was all about without asking him, but something about the emotions she'd felt second-hand while seeing most of it... It was too painful. She didn't want to be cruel, figured maybe it had to do with what he was supposed to change in the first place.

Holding her books to her chest, Buffy peeked down the hall. Willow had promised to meet her so they could head to the library together. Wills thought there might be more stuff on spells there which, considering it was in Sunnydale, might not have been too far off-base. But Willow was nowhere to be found.

That was when Buffy noticed a tall, buff guy limping down the hall past her. It took her a minute, but she recognized him. Buffy, checking one more time for Willow, followed him down the hall, around the corner, and into a little alcove. There were tons of people only ten feet away, and all she had to do to get their attention was make a loud noise. She wasn't going to leave campus. And he owed them after they got him away from Adam. Plus, she could totally kick even a non-injured Initiative Boy's ass in a fight. No one would be happy that she was doing this alone, but maybe they didn't have to know...

When he unlocked the office door, Buffy slipped in after him and shut it behind her. "Riley?"

Riley jumped, the folders in his hands exploding to the floor. "Buffy?"

"Sorry." Buffy knelt down to help him pick it all up. They were essays and stuff with big red letter grades on the front. "How are you doing?"

"Me? Great. No longer have a secret government chip in my chest. Still stings, though."

"Probably wouldn't hurt as bad if a real doctor had taken it out." Buffy glanced at the walls, at the diplomas and certificates and stuff all around. "Is this Professor Walsh's office?"

"Uh, yeah." Riley took the folders from Buffy and the both of them stood. "The TAs are leading her classes this semester, since..."

"Right." Way to make it sad and awkward, Buffy.

"Is there something you want?"

"Huh?"

"Not to be rude, but I've really got a lot to do before tomorrow."

"Right, of course." Buffy rubbed her eyes. "I just... My friends and I were trying to figure out how to stop Adam. I was wondering if anything else might've occurred to you? Or if there were entrances you might be able to tell us into The Initiative? According to Spike, all it took was one door to get from Adam's lair into The Initiative, so..."

"You're still working with an HST?" Riley grimaced.

"I'm working with the man who saved your life, yes. Not big on the grudges. Since, you know, I could kick your ass for having lured me down into The Initiative and making me the new favorite lab rat." Buffy's jaw locked as she glared at him, daring him to say the wrong thing.

"I didn't know Maggie was going to do that."

"Fine. Whatever. Could you tell me the entrances?"

"That's treason."

"Your buddies don't know what they're up against."

"What, and some girl from LA and her friends who experiment with voodoo are going to do better than the military?" He dumped all his paperwork on Maggie's desk.

"No. The Slayer, the ancient vamp, the powerful witches, the ex-demon, the watcher, and the guy who's been staking vamps since he was sixteen are going to do better." Buffy planted her hands on her hips.

Riley's face scrunched up. "Wait. Who's an ex-demon?"

"Don't even go there." Buffy's voice was full of Slayer steel. "You're _seriously_ not going to help? You'd rather let Adam run free than maybe get in trouble at work?"

Riley laughed. "I should've known you wouldn't understand."

"Yeah, that's me. Dumb blonde who thinks that saving the world is just a teensy bit more important than your orders."

"Buffy—"

She held up a hand. "Forget it. I should've known this would get us nowhere. I'd just kinda hoped Spike saving your life might knock some sense into you. My mistake."

When Buffy left the office, slamming the door so hard behind her it might've knocked off its hinges a little, she stormed back into the main hallway and almost ran Willow flat over. Will tilted her head.

"Buffy. Are you okay?"

"Riley is a jerk. A big, unhelpful jerk."

Willow gulped, her eyes wide. "Want me to hex him?"

Buffy laughed. "I think I just need to go punch things."

"Oh. Uh. I guess I'll run to the library and meet you at The Magic Box?"

"Sure." Buffy attempted a deep breath, running her hand over her hair. "It's gonna be a lot harder to use the magic shop for Scooby stuff when Giles opens it next week."

"It's Sunnydale," Willow said. "I think people tend to overlook a few things. Remember the aftermath of M.O.O.?"

"Oh God, don't remind me." Buffy rolled her eyes. "The smell of bar-be-ques still makes me squirm."

xxxxx

Buffy landed five alternating jabs on the scarecrow dummy, the last one sending him spinning even though she landed it a little too far to her left. Spike stopped the thing, resetting it in front of the Slayer. She just needed an hour of smash and bash to work out the Riley rage.

"Your elbow dropped on the last one, love. Need to watch that."

"What? Are you Giles now?" Buffy didn't mean to snap that badly, but she wasn't in the mood for all the tai-chi and technique corrections.

"I'm just sayin'. Adam, we're gonna need everything we got, a'right? All need to be at the top of our game."

"Fine." Buffy licked her lips. She turned slightly, facing Spike. "Let's go, then."

"You alright, Slayer?"

"Why?"

"You seem a little more... Well, you're honestly bein' all thorns today. What bee got in your bonnet?"

"Shut up and fight."

Spike sneered, yanking his coat off and flinging it across the room. "Fine."

Buffy punched him in the side of the face and he returned the blow. She swerved down after, then kicked him in the torso. Spike stumbled backwards a few steps but recovered nearly immediately, stalking toward Buffy. He had her by the back of the shirt and flung her across the room in a flash. Buffy snapped back to her feet. When he approached her again, she ducked his next attempt to deck her, then popped back up.

"What the bloody hell is going on in here?"

Buffy, realizing she was panting heavily, looked to the doorway. Giles was glaring at the both of them.

"Slayer wanted to spar," Spike grumbled. He stomped his way out of the room, grabbing his coat before heading for the main shop.

Giles' eyes narrowed at Buffy. "Are you alright?"

"God, people need to stop asking me that. I'm just dandy!"

Buffy huffed. She took her pink zip-up hoodie from the gymnastics horse thing and pulled it onto her arms as she moved toward the main shop as well. She could hear the shouting before she even saw anyone.

"And no one thought maybe to tell me?"

"The Slayer would never do something that bloody stupid! Git's lyin' to you. Shouldn't be a shock."

"What now?" Giles shouted, coming into the room.

"I think we need a research break," Tara suggested, her voice soft. She was sitting next to Willow at the table, with tons of books open in front of them. "We're all getting a little overworked and tired and, um, cranky?"

"You know how we said Ahn and I should try talking some sense into Riley? Apparently Buffy thought she should just do the job herself," Xander yelled, waving in Buffy's direction. He and Anya were standing by the door of the shop.

"And I'm tryin' to tell Harris that the Slayer wouldn't..." Spike turned to Buffy, who was attempting to avoid eye contact with all of them and failing spectacularly. "Buffy?"

"Willow, why would you tell them?"

"Willow knew? Great! I guess I really am just the third wheel in the girl power hour."

"Buffy." Wills stood, her eyebrows scrunching down. "I wouldn't tell them something like that. How could you think I'd go behind your back? Riley said it when they went to see him."

"Slayer, that's the kind of thing that gets you trapped and fightin' the army," Spike said. His expression was as shocked as it would've been if Buffy had slapped him while he was reading the morning paper.

Buffy decided to ignore Spike's protest for a minute. It was real easy for them to tell her all her wrong moves she'd made. They weren't slayers. They didn't get it. Mistakes happened, but she always had to try. She stopped trying, people died. "I mean, I don't know why you're so upset, Xand. You guys only need Slayer Buffy, right? I was just doing my sacred duty."

"What in the hell are you talking about?"

"Think about it. When was the last time we just hung out? Like people? Bronze, movie night, Espresso Pump, anything?"

"Buffy, that's not fair," Willow said. "We've had a lot on our plates and—"

"Fine. When was the last time you and Tara went on a date?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Buffy blinked away the stinging in her eyes. "Apocalypses happen. We always made time for each other before. I bet you've been spending loads of time with your honeys."

"Oh, and you haven't been spending your nights in the arms of your dead lover boy?" Xander shot back.

"Don't you start on Spike," Buffy gritted out, her voice sharp. In truth, she couldn't remember the last good night's sleep she got. She just wanted to curl up and forget about Adam for a while, but she couldn't. The only break she ever got was class and the hour here and there that she and Spike managed to carve out for themselves.

"I knew you had a problem with this. Me and Tara." Willow frowned.

"Will," Xander said, "we don't—"

"Xander, how can I think you'd accept that I've got a girlfriend? You don't even like that I'm a witch!"

"You can be bigoted sometimes, sweetie," Anya nonchalantly volunteered.

"Not helping, Ahn."

"Now, would you all just—"

"I get it. You don't want me around anymore," Willow said, ignoring Giles. "I'm not the exact same quiet, computer-hacking sidekick Willow who just helps you break into the coroner's office, so you—"

"Maybe we should take a—"

"Hey, the Slayer doesn't get best buds, right?" Buffy shot back over Tara, her voice cracking. She shrugged. "Maybe you guys should just call me when you need me to hit big scary things for you."

"Hey, I mean, at least you're useful," Xander laughed, bitter. "After I give you a couple of one-liners and maybe a funny monkey dance, my part is done."

Willow bolted for the door to The Magic Box. "I'm going to feed Miss Kitty Fantastico."

Buffy and Xander locked eyes across the room when she left. Xander's mouth hung open for a second. "Miss who?" he asked.

"Oh, um." Tara stood, playing with the ends of her hair. "Miss Kitty Fantastico. Our kitten."

"You got a kitten?" Buffy shook her head. Willow didn't tell her about that. The last few weeks were a little fuzzy on the specifics. She couldn't remember much outside of _Mission. Adam. Initiative. Slay. Train._ Things kinda went on autopilot.

"I'm sure you and Wills can chat about it while you're braiding each other's hair," Xander snapped, turning for the door. "In between jokes about how worthless I am."

"Xand—"

"You know," he said, pausing at the open door, "she was my best friend first, before all the witch stuff and the Slayer stuff." Xander slammed the door shut behind him.

Buffy turned back to Tara. "Are you two living together?"

"Um."

"Great." Why had Willow been keeping that from her? Willow, who had been the one to comfort her the most when Angel went dark side, who had tried so hard to help Buffy adjust to college, who hadn't freaked when Buffy confessed she'd kissed Spike. Buffy couldn't take it. It was too much. She was too tired and emotional and didn't feel like getting pity pats on the back if she burst into tears here.

"I'm going back to my mother's." Buffy sprinted for the door, wiping at her eyes as she left The Magic Shop.

xxxxx

"Well, that certainly could've gone better," Spike said. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, watching the door as though the whole lot of 'em would return any minute and realize they were being insane.

"I don't understand where that even came from." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose, not bothering to remove his glasses.

"I know Willow's been stressed lately." The little witch curled her arms around herself. "She... She was worried, when she told them, about us. That they might, um, think of her differently? Maybe not even love her anymore."

"And Xander has been on this whole nobody loves me thing," Anya added. She fussed with her nails.

Spike smirked, then giggled, checking to see if any of the rest of the B-team had caught it yet. "It's the Yoko factor."

"As in Ono?" Giles asked.

"Yeah. Beatles would've broken up with or without her. Last time 'round, when I was workin' with Adam, I pushed buttons until the three of 'em—and you, Watcher—decided to part ways. Makes it easier to take down a Slayer if she doesn't have her back-up dancers about."

"But they've managed to upset one another regardless." Giles nodded, clearly deep in thought.

"Lack of sleep and overworking will do that," Anya said.

"And growing up, taking different paths in life." Giles looked around at the three of them. "So we'll have to go convince them to reconvene. Hopefully before Adam decides to attack."

"Right. Slayer prolly doesn't want to see me right now." Spike held a hand to the back of his head. "I think I might've pissed her off while we were trainin'."

"I could go to her," Rupert offered.

Spike shook his head. "When I pissed her off, said I reminded her of you."

Giles scoffed, indignant. "Excuse me?"

"It's possibly the British thing," Lady Vengeance piped up. "Or the rugged handsome thing."

Giles, swiftly bashful, looked to the floor. Spike rolled his eyes. "I was tellin' her how to take a swing better."

"Well, I'm not going to see her. I don't think she likes me very much. She and Willow have told me many times that I lack tact, and people skills."

"Um, Willow and I had found a spell that the cards might be tied to," the witch said, ending the sentence with a crooked smile. "You can see if it's really useful? It's in Sumerian, I think, so I can't read it anyway."

"Lucky for you, I happen to know my share of Sumerian." Anya nodded and headed off toward the table.

"So I guess that leaves you with Buffy," Spike said, nodding at Tara.

"Sure. I can t-try to help."

"Rupert, you want to take the other Wicca or Joe Construction?"

"She really looks up to you, Mr. Giles. I think... I think she'd appreciate it if you talked to her."

"Right. So I get stuck with Harris." Spike glanced toward the table. "Any advice from the peanut gallery over there, pet?"

"Don't bring up his former girlfriends," Anya said. She flipped the pages of a book, muttering to herself, "He gets snippy."

"Super."


	39. Chapter 38

_Dedicated to bwburke94, RAGAnne, Quindecim, RKF22, madcloisfan, and Cloongarvin._

 _Cloongarvin: I definitely shy away from making it all as simple as "Spike remembers and fixes everything" because it bugs me when stories do that. One, that's a lot of shit to remember, especially for someone who's been dead and tortured a bunch of times. Two, it's Spike and there are only very particular things that he actually cares about. Well, and three, it's Spike and him getting plans to actually work is typically 50/50 at best. Haha. Thank you for that review!_

 _Alright, folks. Prepare for some warm, fuzzy feelings in this chapter... and maybe even in the next chapter._

 _I got to the end of this story last night. If I keep it exactly as is and don't decide to add some stuff I'm thinking about, we're looking at 43 chapters in total. It may end up as 44, but either way... The end is nigh._

 **Chapter 38**

Buffy sprinted the whole way to Revello Drive, happy that she didn't run into any baddies or people who thought to ask what she was running from on the way. Sometimes, Sunnydale had its perks. When she stopped in front of the house, her mom's car was parked out front and the living room light was on. She rubbed her hands over her face, hoping her mother wouldn't be able to tell she'd been crying. As she walked in the front door, her mother was walking from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn.

"Buffy? Sweetheart, I thought you were off training with Mr. Giles." Her eyes narrowed. Buffy could see the mom gears turning in her head. "What happened?"

"We had a fight. Can we...?" Buffy looked to the living room.

"Of course. Here, sit down."

Buffy curled up on the couch. Her mother placed the bowl of popcorn in front of her, but Buffy barely noticed. She wasn't sure how things back at The Magic Box had gotten so out of control. Just, with everyone yelling, she went all combative girl all of a sudden. Her mother wrapped a blanket around Buffy, and Buffy snuggled against the back of the couch as her mom sat on the opposite side of the bowl. With one click of the remote, the TV was muted.

"So you and Mr. Giles fought?"

Buffy shook her head. "Me and Willow and Xander. And... I snapped at Spike. A little."

"Was it really bad?"

Buffy thought back, to Christmas Eve, sitting on the steps behind the house with blankets wrapped around herself. Spike had come and checked up on her... "I think it was a long time coming. There's stuff, about being the Slayer, and they just don't—can't—understand it. Sometimes I wish I was normal."

"You were never normal." Her mom reached forward, running her fingers over Buffy's hair. "You were special from the beginning."

Buffy let the warm tears fall. "What if they only want the Slayer? Is that all I'm good for?" She rubbed at her nose. "Willow got a kitten, and I didn't even know. I hardly noticed that she's pretty much living with Tara now instead of me, because I spend all my time in class or looking for vamps to beat up with Spike. And Xander thinks we don't care about him because he's not a witch or anything."

"It happens, you know. Even if you're not on a Hellmouth. Friends get older, they do different things. And you've fought with Willow and Xander before."

Buffy almost thought it was a question, until she remembered the huge blowout when she returned from LA, back when Willow was with Oz and Xand was with Cordelia. They'd had huge shouting matches before. They always got over it. "What if this time's different?"

"You love your friends." Her mother shifted the popcorn to the coffee table and scooted closer to her daughter. "And they love you. You'll all figure this out and be protecting the world from big evil again in no time." She smiled, wrapping Buffy in her arms.

Buffy took a minute to appreciate it, how safe she felt. She always had to be she-of-huge-responsibility. But right now—as sucky as the situation was—she was a normal college girl with normal friend problems—mostly. Something about that was comforting, in a tear-inducing kind of way. "When did you get so accepting of the fighting evil anyway?" Buffy laughed.

"Oh, it still scares me, more than anything." Her mother rubbed Buffy's shoulder. "And if you could give it up tomorrow, I'd give anything..." She kissed the top of her daughter's head. "But I know you're strong, and you have Mr. Giles and Spike and your friends to look out for you." Her mother grinned. "Of course, if you wanted to pack your bags tonight and move to Italy, that would be okay, too. They don't have any Hellmouths in Italy, do they?"

The pair of them laughed.

"Sweetheart, I think I have some emergency fudge in the crisper drawer?"

"I hope there's at least a pound of it."

Her mother released Buffy, standing from the couch. "I'll bring whatever I've got."

xxxxx

Spike paused outside the basement door. Definitely only one heartbeat in the house, coming from the boy's basement. Money was on Harris being the only one home. Spike lifted a fist to knock, then stopped himself. That'd just give Harris the chance to lock the door. Not that Spike couldn't then break it down, but why make his job more difficult than it had to be, right? So Spike just opened the door and walked inside.

Xander snapped around, his eyes dark. "You?"

"Look, Harris, I came to—"

"Get out."

"Harris—"

"I said get out."

"Bugger that."

Xander laughed, bitter, throwing his hands in the air. "Hey, funny man must be jokin', right? Not like I could kick your ass out with slayer strength or de-invite you with a spell or anything. Please, come on in. Hey, you think _Total Recall_ is on TV? I'll make popcorn! Kettle or movie butter?"

"Would you shut up for one sodding minute, you moron?"

"Oh God. This is worse, isn't it?" The boy ruffled his own hair, pacing in a circle. Spike half-smirked, thinking of when his Slayer would start to fret and pace the floor just like that. "This is the Not-So-Big, Not-So-Bad giving me life advice," he groaned.

"What, you think we were just gonna let you all storm off and not try 'n do anything about it? Plus..." Spike sucked in his cheeks, keeping down a smile as best he could. "Why would I pass up a chance to torture you, right?"

"Where's Anya?"

"Uh, back at The Magic Box. Readin' some Sumerian spell from the lover wiccas."

"Of course."

"So what was with the shoutin' match back there?" Spike pulled his lighter and a cig from his duster pocket. "You all seem like you're in a right mood." He lit up, watching the boy as he waited for an answer.

"Why don't you go bother Buffy? She actually likes you." Harris' face twisted up, disgusted. "For some strange and unfathomable reason."

"I'm downright lovable. 'Sides, don't think she wants to see me right 'bout now."

"I—" Xander sat back hard on his crappy old couch, head in his hands. "It wasn't smart, right? For her to just go an talk to Riley like that? What if..."

"For once, Harris, I'm with you." Spike shook his head. Deciding it'd be weird to sit anywhere near the boy, he crouched on the floor, leaning back against a wall and releasing a long drag of smoke. "Sometimes, she can be..."

"Action first, strategy never?"

The pair of them grinned at one another.

"Love that about her," Spike muttered.

"Scares me sometimes," Harris admitted, staring at the door Spike had barged in through. "I just want to..."

"Keep her safe. Keep her from gettin' hurt."

"You know, back when Wills was just techy, it was Buffy with the superpowers. At least Willow and I were both the totally normal back-up, you know?"

"Now Red's chantin' with candles 'n whatever. Gettin' stronger."

"When did you become Insight Boy?"

"Oi." Spike crushed his cigarette on the floor. "I've always had a keen eye, thank you very much." Spike stood, tugging at his duster to re-adjust it.

"Doesn't matter if I come back to help 'em. They're better off without me."

Slayer felt like that too, sometimes. Maybe not yet, but she would... or might. When she jumped the tower, when they kicked her out of her own damn house. Harris wasn't going to believe anything Spike had to say. However, if Spike was the one tellin' him how useless he was...

"You're prolly right." Spike shrugged. He picked at the chipping black nail polish on one of his fingernails. "When it comes down to it, Big Bad battles are no place for a growing young lad like yourself."

"Hey!" Xander jumped to his feet. His eyes flashed with fire. There it was. "I'll have you know that I helped rescue Giles from Angel when he was getting tortured! And I was in charge of organizing the graduation kill-the-mayor brigades! And... and... Angel couldn't even give Buff CPR when The Master killed her! I'm the only reason she lived after that. I care about her and Wills and Anya more than anyone else. Plus I couldn't even tell you how many patrols..."

Harris paused, mouth hanging open at he looked at Spike. Spike only raised his scarred eyebrow.

"Did I just get reverse psychology-ed by the Slayer's pet vampire? Oh God. Just bite me now and get it over with."

"I dunno." Spike chuckled. "Did it work?"

"Fine. You made your damn point. Can you go away now?"

"Alright, alright. Keep your clown pants on, Harris."

"Thank you for those nightmares," Xander grumbled.

"Look, Rupert's off talkin' to the witch and Tara is with the Slayer. All goes well, maybe your bird'll have the spell we need tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure." Xander rubbed his face. "Then we'll just go kick some Frankenstein ass. Another May on the Hellmouth, right?"

"Cheer up, Harris." Spike opened the door to leave. "Nothin's as fun as a good brawl."

Xander shrugged. "Some people mini-golf. We kick demon ass."

"That's the spirit."

"Spike, I..."

"Yeah?" Spike was already across the threshold, ready to close the door, when he paused.

"I can see why Buffy doesn't completely hate your guts."

"You know, Harris, you can sweet talk me all you want." Spike began closing the door. "My unbeatin' heart already belongs to another."

xxxxx

When a knock came at the door, Buffy and her mother looked to it. Buffy's fingers were covered in chocolate, and her mother had the box of fudge still in front of her. Her mom started to stand from where she sat on the floor, but Buffy waved her to stay.

"Mom, please. I've got it."

She started for the door. The hour or so that she and her mom just gossiped and ate and laughed had been so relaxing that Buffy half forgot why she'd come over here in the first place. Buffy and Spike had taken the occasional opportunity to go grab burgers or sneak out to The Bronze or spend all night going at it in his crypt or her dorm room, but she appreciated any chance to get away from being The Slayer for a bit. Buffy opened the door.

"Hi, Buffy," Tara said, smiling. "Um, is it a bad time?"

Instant slay mode activated. "What happened? Tara, are you alright?"

"Oh, y-yeah. Um, I just wanted to see how _you_ were doing."

Buffy had to admit, Willow knew how to pick a sweet honey. She stepped aside, waving Tara in. Tara nodded and started toward the living room.

"Buffy?" her mother called. "Who is it?"

Buffy followed Tara into the room.

"Hi, Mrs. Summers."

"Tara! I didn't know you were coming."

Buffy laughed. "It was a surprise, apparently."

"Oh dear." Her mom looked at the empty box that had once contained fudge but they (mostly Buffy) had demolished in one sitting. "This is embarrassing."

"Please, Mom." Buffy smirked. "Tara knows it was all me."

"Well, regardless, I should probably head up to bed anyway." Joyce shook her head, taking the box with her as she rose. "I'm going to need to drink a whole pot of coffee before I can open the gallery tomorrow."

"You know, I was thinking..." Tara glanced between the two Summers women. Joyce's smile encouraged her to continue. "I could help you, this summer, if you want. I've been studying art history and I'm... I'm only taking one class this summer, so I could help. Willow said she'd see if Mr. Giles wanted help at The Magic Box, so..."

"That would be wonderful!" Joyce said. "And I'd feel so much better not having to hire a 15-year-old to carry Boteros around."

Tara laughed. "I'll bring my class schedule by tomorrow, maybe?"

"Sure." Joyce walked over to Buffy, kissing her on the cheek. "Get some sleep, sweetheart."

Buffy smiled, a hand on her mother's shoulder. "Thanks, Mom. I will."

With that, Buffy's mother headed up to bed. Tara looked to Buffy, waiting.

"So how mad at me is Wills?" Buffy asked as she flopped back onto the couch.

"I don't... I think she's mostly upset. I haven't seen her since..." Tara looked back toward the front door.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, no, I... Sorry, I'm doing this all wrong." Tara glided over to the armchair, taking a seat and neatly crossing her legs. Buffy only noticed the plastic bag when Tara dropped it onto her own lap. "Mr. Giles went to try and talk to her and..." Tara noticed Buffy eyeing the bag. "Oh, yeah. That's why it took me so long, getting here." She held it out in front of her. "It's for you."

Buffy tilted her head. "What for?"

"I was... I was hoping it might help? Make you feel better, I mean."

Buffy stood to grab the bag and take out what was inside. The first thing she pulled was a bottle of coconut lotion.

"Um, Willow said... She said that's your favorite scent." Tara smiled, playing with her fingers. "She said it reminds you of the beach and stuff."

Buffy put the lotion back and pulled the second item: a _The Cutting Edge_ tape. "Who spilled the beans about my obsession with corny ice skating stuff?" she whispered. And it was one of her favorites, too.

"Xander. When we were sick, in his basement, he mentioned that your dad used to..." Tara wrinkled her nose and shrugged. "I hope that one's okay. I don't really watch lots of sports movies."

Buffy giggled, forcing back tears. Will and Xand knew her so well. Even if they weren't hanging out all the time, they... Buffy played off her sob as a hiccup. Unsuccessfully.

"Oh God, Buffy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" Tara jumped to her feet.

"No, no." Buffy put the tape back in the bag. She waved at Tara and then held the back of her hand to her nose as she sniffled. "This was beyond nice of you. I just... I feel bad about tonight. How out of hand things got. And..." Buffy's lips trembled when she looked up at Tara. "I miss them so much sometimes. Even when they're right there."

"Maybe... Maybe after Adam, you three can spend more time together?"

Buffy caught that. The way Tara was shrinking away, like this was all her fault somehow. Spike had told Buffy, very briefly, that Tara's family hadn't been very nice to her, which the whole turning-her-over-to-The-Initiative thing kinda confirmed. Buffy reached out, rubbing Tara's arm. "And you and Anya and Spike, too. You guys all matter to us. I think we all just kinda got caught up in our own things."

Tara nodded. "It does happen."

"Hey! You ever seen this before?" Buffy shook the bag.

Tara smiled and shook her head.

"We don't need to be up super early tomorrow." Buffy took the movie back out and tossed the bag with the lotion to the couch. "Movie night?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. I'll grab a blanket?"

"Sure! There should be one in the closet near the stairs."

As Tara walked off, Buffy popped the tape into the VCR and set the TV up. Tara returned with some big, comfy-looking quilt. The pair of them sat beside one another on the couch. Buffy hit play on the remote and Tara shook the quilt out, laying it over the both of them.

Buffy smiled. They'd make more time for stuff like this, all of them. They just had to find that Hellmouth-life balance again. Buffy yanked the lotion from her bag, popping it open and rubbing a dollop on her hands. The whole room smelled like coconut. She grinned.


	40. Chapter 39

_It seems that the final count on this story is going to be 44 chapters (after some additions while editing last night)._

 _This chapter goes out to RAGAnne, RKF22, madcloisfan, Cloongarvin, and Quindecim._

 _We've got some pre-battle goodness coming up next-some insight, some planning, and maybe a good luck ritual somewhere in there... ;)_

 _(Keep in mind I've been hinting at Story #2 and Story #3 of this series for a while, but that'll especially be true in these upcoming final chapters.)_

 **Chapter 39**

Someone was calling out to her. Not Buffy. Her calling...

 _Slayer._

Just when something started to come into focus, a woman with wild eyes and dark hair, a ringing interrupted it. Buffy stirred, but kept her eyes closed. She was warm and cozy and didn't feel like waking up. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed she wouldn't have to hit the alarm and go to school. She was right; the ringing stopped. Buffy snuggled against...

She opened her eyes. Buffy was looking up at Tara, who was just starting to blink awake. They both rubbed at their eyes. Buffy looked at the TV, all static-y, and realized she'd collapsed over onto Tara's shoulder when they fell asleep on the couch. She didn't even remember any of the movie. Buffy patted at her hair as she sat up. Her mom walked into the room, the cordless phone in hand.

"Honey, it's Willow."

Buffy smiled, remembering the coconut lotion in the bag next to her. She held out her hand and her mother passed over the phone.

"Wills. Hey."

"Buffy."

Buffy, sliding the quilt from her lap, stood. "How're you doing?"

"I'm... I'm alright. Giles came over to talk last night. He said some really warm and fuzzy stuff about how much you guys love me. I guess... I'm just... I've been so worried, that you guys might not love me anymore, you know?"

Buffy watched Tara fold the quilt up and then walk over to Joyce, the two of them whispering amongst themselves.

"We'll always love you, Wills. And besides, Tara really is great."

"Buffy, chocolate chip pancakes okay?" Tara asked, playing with the edge of the quilt.

Buffy's mouth hung open, her eyes wide.

"That means yes," Joyce whispered. The pair of them walked off toward the kitchen.

"I may not let you have her back," Buffy said into the phone.

"Pancakes?"

"Chocolate chip."

"I can be there in ten."

xxxxx

They'd eaten way more than Buffy thought was possible. She blamed herself and Spike, mostly. As a group they'd gone through at least two dozen pancakes, but she wouldn't be surprised if it was way more. The conversation was mostly light, talking about classes or how good the syrup was or mall trip plans. Her mother had to go open the gallery only a half hour after the Scoobies had arrived, and Tara headed over with her to talk about a summer schedule. Anya offered to open The Magic Box for Giles since she didn't want to be "bored to tears twice over" by whatever battle planning spell thing they'd found.

Buffy walked into the kitchen, carrying all the dishes Giles couldn't grab on his way in. He was rinsing some off in the sink and loading up the dishwasher. "You know that can wait, right?"

"Yes, well." Giles adjusted the glasses on his nose. "It's not exactly fair to expect your mother to clean up after all of us, now is it?"

Buffy set the dishes next to the sink, alternating rinsing with her watcher as the pair of them continuing packing the dishwasher up.

"Did..." Giles cleared his throat, pulling the whole awkward-eye-contact-avoidance technique. "Did speaking with Tara help you last night?"

"Well, first I cried to my mom about it," Buffy said, sticking the soap stuff into the washer's compartment before closing the thing up. "And then there was fudge, and then Tara brought this ice skating movie and..." Giles finally did look at her, his forehead creasing as he raised his eyebrows, amused. "Yeah. It helped. Did Willow..."

"I assured her we love her, would always." Giles nodded, once, short.

"Good call." Buffy giggled. "I can't imagine the Spike-and-Xander thing went especially well."

"Well, Xander did not stake Spike as I feared he might try, so that's certainly improvement."

Buffy exaggerated a pout. "Generally prefer my boyfriends not all dusty, yeah."

"Spike has..."

Buffy held her breath as Giles paused. She expected the worst: More of the anti-Spike convo from when Angel was in town; the "you're the Slayer, you have responsibilities like not dating the undead" lecture; reminders of how dangerous and flip-floppy Spike was despite the fact that he was pretty much psychotically loyal. As Buffy started figuring out counterarguments, Giles continued:

"Spike has proven himself willing to help when the occasion calls for it."

"I don't—" Buffy stopped the accusation and processed for a sec. "Wait, huh?"

"I apologize if my lack of trust in him seemed like a lack of trust in you. I just fear..." Giles rubbed at his temple. "I do not wish you to be harmed. And I hope that I will continue to be useful to you, whatever you might—"

"Whoa, whoa. Hold that line of thought right there. Giles, you're always going to be a part of my life. You know that, right?" Buffy shrank back just a little. "I need you. I can't do this without you."

Giles smiled, his eyes welling up with—were those tears? "Thank you, Buffy."

Buffy hugged him. When they broke the embrace, he'd gotten all stiff upper-lippy again.

"So this spell thing Anya translated?"

"Ah, yes. It's an enjoinment spell. But it's highly volatile. I don't know how we achieved it before without serious repercussions. _If_ there were no serious repercussions."

"You say that about chewing too quickly." Buffy smirked, then shrugged. "I guess it mighta been one of the things that made Spike's original timeline all screwed up. Aaand my head hurts again."

"I'm going to search the rest of the text it came from and see if there's not another option for us to pursue. I believe Anya has it set aside at The Magic Box. You don't mind if I leave for a few hours?"

"If it'll help us kick Adam's shiny butt? Hell with a side of no."

"Slayer?" The pair of them turned to the kitchen doorway. Spike was leaning in, tilting his head. "I didn't get any sleep last night, between braidin' hair with Harris and patrollin'. Mind if I catch some kip in your room for a few?"

"Sure, Spike. Just don't change the radio station."

Spike only winked and slipped away as quickly as he'd come in.

xxxxx

With Spike upstairs and Giles starting up his old car out front, Buffy took a seat at the dining room table, joining Xander and Willow. She was preparing herself for the sure-to-follow uncomfortable conversation. Last time they'd talked between the three of them, it'd been all yell-y. Sure, they'd behaved themselves this morning, but their honeys and Giles and her mom were around to keep things all happy.

"I think I should've stopped at five pancakes," Xander said. His grin was silly as he sat back in his chair, patting his belly. "Six might've been a bit much."

"I'm just surprised your mom had enough to make all of them," Willow said. "Though I guess when your kid has a Slayer appetite..." Her tongue caught between her teeth when she smiled.

Buffy couldn't help smiling herself, but they couldn't just ignore what'd happened, right? Although, if they were all willing to... _No_ , Buffy argued with herself. _Mature Buffy. She's hiding around here somewhere..._ "I'm sorry," she blurted out, with all the grace of one of Anya's transitions.

"Last night..." Wills sighed, looking between the both of them. "I think we've been drifting all year, ya know? But, that's normal. The freshman year... drift?"

"I don't go to college, and I _still_ get screwed," Xander muttered with a shake of his head.

"But I don't want to drift," Buffy said. "I don't want that to be normal. I miss you guys! I just got so wrapped up in my own stuff..."

"You're the Slayer, Buffy," Willow whispered. She reached forward and laid her hand on Buffy's. "Your stuff is pretty crucial. And I was wrapped up in my stuff, too. With the spells and Tara and... I was just so worried, about all of it." A couple of small tears escaped Willow. Buffy flipped her hand so she and Wills could lace fingers, Buffy squeezing. "I figured if Oz didn't love me enough to stay, and with being the resident Wicca screw-up..."

Xander grabbed Willow's other hand. "You are such a dummy."

"Xander!" Buffy hissed, glaring at him.

Xand ignored her, never letting his eyes leave Willow's. "I loved you when you broke the yellow crayon in kindergarten, I loved you when you had horrendous choice in Internet boyfriend. Of course I'd love super witch, lady-lovin' Willow." His eyes crinkled when Willow laughed. "If anything, I'm jealous of you guys."

"Jealous?" Willow gently took her hands from theirs to wipe at her cheeks. "Did you miss the screw-up part?"

"But you're powerful. Able to fight the good fight. Most I can do is hope someone needs CPR."

"Xander, I—"

He held his hand up and Buffy stopped speaking. "Trust me, I know. Grateful Undead already gave me the pep talk. Well, actually, he said I _was_ useless and reverse psychologied me into yelling at him. Same diff."

"I..." Buffy played with the sleeve of her shirt, avoiding any and all eye contact. "I guess I was kinda jealous, too."

"Now I'm just lost out in the middle of the Sahara without a drop to drink," Xander said.

"Buffy, you're amazing. The Slayer," Willow added.

"I know. But... Anya and Tara got to spend all this time with you guys. I had Spike. I love Spike. But I didn't want to lose you guys, either. And besides, the Slayer package includes an extra helping of lonely with the mega responsibility main course. Sometimes..." Buffy rubbed her lips together, looking up but blinking away the tears she didn't want to show. "Sometimes I just feel like the Slayer. Like there's no Buffy left. And it scares me."

"That's what you have us for," Xand said.

Buffy nodded, sniffling for just a second before collecting herself. "So, uh, Giles is off trying to find a safer spell. Any ideas on strategies, Mr. Military?"

"Knock down big machine. Cut big machine into tiny pieces?"

"Easy enough," Willow said with a tilt of her head. "If we have industrial saws and lots of time and if the pieces can't come to life again once the spell stuff wears off."

"There's gotta be something that keeps him going, right?" Buffy chewed on her lower lip, trying to think of any demon she'd faced before. "I mean, he doesn't do the vampire blood thing, as far as we know, and there haven't been twenty-five hearts missing from the hospital or something like The Gentleman."

"That's the thing," Willow said. "He's got so many pieces, it's hard to know what runs it all."

"When I zapped him with the gun," Xander said, "it didn't hurt him, it made him stronger, right?"

Buffy and Willow nodded.

"And, I mean, we know The Initiative likes their shiny machine stuff."

"Yeah!" Willow bounced in her seat, smacking her hand on the table. "The source of his power would be electronic. Has to be, right? Demons and humans need sustenance. If it's robotic, there could be some kind of self-sustaining power source he's using."

"Maybe he's plugging himself in at The Espresso Pump every night?"

Willow pursed her lips at Xander.

"Remember, Warren said he's mostly been working in caves?" Buffy said.

"The coding goodness that Buffy nabbed." Xand pointed at Willow. "Can you find if it's got any research on self-sustaining thing-a-me-jigers?"

"The floppy disks are at The Magic Box." Willow and Xander jumped to their feet. "I can try and isolate certain data. If we can find the power source..."

"All we need is to get him knocked out for five minutes and shut it off," Buffy finished.

"You comin' Buffster?"

Buffy sighed. "How horrible would it be if I got some sleep first?"

Willow smirked. "See you there at sundown?"

Buffy glanced at the ceiling. "More or less, yeah."

xxxxx

Spike could tell there was a Scooby heart-to-heart coming on downstairs and he'd had enough of that rot for one week. Bad enough he'd helped Harris get his head out of his arse; didn't need to play referee while they all sorted their feelings before the big group hug. Of course, when his Slayer mentioned the radio it was the first thing he'd messed with, turning it from bubblegum dancers tryin' to sing to one of only two Sunnydale stations that played the likes of The Jam and The Dead Kennedys.

He hummed along to The Misfits, bobbing his head as he paced her room. Imagined Buffy'd want to do a bit of a chat when her friends left, so no use in gettin' cozy in her bed yet. Instead, he busied himself by inspecting her room, absently examining all her shiny baubles on her dresser and chuckling at the boy bands and their stupid hair in the posters along her walls. And, as he expected, when he came 'round to the window, Harris and Red were packing into the boy's car, no Slayer in sight. On cue, he heard her prancing up the steps only half a minute before her bedroom door swung open. Spike smirked when he turned to her.

"What did I tell you about my radio?" she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Sorry, pet," Spike said. He bowed his head as he stalked across the room to her. "Did you think I'd be listenin' to 'Barbie Girl' up here?"

"What even is this?" Buffy's nose curled. "It's all screamy. It pretty much doesn't even have lyrics."

"It's, uh..." Spike snickered, because the title hadn't occurred to him when he was simply listening to it. "Hybrid Moments."

"Really?"

"Wasn't on purpose."

The sight of Buffy's eyes all lit up was more than enough to turn Spike into poncey William if he didn't watch himself. He took the final step forward so that he could comfortably wrap his arms 'round her waist. "Want to get in a few hours' sleep, sweetheart?"

"Very much."

Buffy coiled her arms around the back of his neck, like they'd start slow dancing to The Misfits any minute. She snuggled against his chest. If Spike had gone back in time to when he was with Dru and told his past self the next Slayer he'd meet would be snugglin' him, well... It would've sounded as outlandish as when Dru had told him the Slayer was still swarmin' all around him when they'd escaped to South America.

"Spike?"

"Yeah, Buffy?"

"I'm sorry. For last night." She pulled just far enough away to look up at him, still keeping her arms around him. "I... I've been so afraid, with you and Tara being taken, and all of us..." She ducked her head. "I don't know that I can keep us all safe," she confessed as her voice lowered. "And I feel like I took it out on you."

"Pet?" Spike lifted her chin with a single finger. "Here's the thing: You can always take it out on me. Y'always hurt the one you love. Generally, they're the one within strikin' distance."

A conversation they'd had, about how Angel had left and she couldn't keep men around, floated into his head. Hell, her sodding watcher and father had done the same damn thing, hadn't they—even after Joyce had passed the father hadn't come around for Buffy or the Nibblet, and ol' Rupert decided to leave town even when he knew she'd returned from heaven.

"Ain't gonna be enough to drive me off," he continued. "Not ever. I'm the stubborn sort." Spike kissed her nose. "Just like you."

"I love you." She leaned up, the kiss she offered tender and sweet. "And I really am sorry."

Spike ran his fingers through her hair. "So what says Rupes? We have a way to take down The Incredible Frankenstein?"

"He's working on it. I figure we'll head over after dark?"

"Good deal." Spike pulled her into an embrace, pressing his lips to her ear. "I love you, Buffy."

He would never let her go, never let her die. Not while he was alive enough to fight by her side. He'd let himself be dusted first. Spike thought of the notebook in his duster pocket downstairs, with all the notes of the future-yet-to-come. If he died... He'd have to have a back-up in place, make sure the others kept Buffy alive if he fell down in the line of duty.


	41. Chapter 40

_Dedicated to Quindecim, madcloisfan, RKF22, RAGAnne, and bwburke94._

 _I have lots of fun writing Slayer dreams. Maybe too much._

 _Next chapter is smut-tacular. Might get into a bit naughtier territory than usual. But, of course, there's also some emotional stuff snuck in there. (Bonus points for those of you who find the echoes from canon in the next chapter!)_

 _Enjoy._

 **Chapter 40**

 _Slayer_.

Buffy recognized the voice. "Tara?"

Around her, darkness, always darkness. Buffy felt cold stone behind her, spun around. Moonlight shined down on it, a crypt—Spike's crypt. She turned again to find a desert cast in harsh light. Buffy held her hand over her eyes, squinting. Women started coming into view, all kinds of women, stretching further out into the sand than Buffy could see. The horizon in the distance was lit green, unnaturally bright.

"That's not to be seen. Not yet."

"Tara?" Of all the women Buffy could see, her friend wasn't one of them. That's when she noticed the two up front, the most clear of them. "Kendra? Faith? What the hell?"

"Buffy, you should know a slayer's duty is never done," Kendra said in her thick accent.

"Such is the life of The Chosen Two, B," Faith continued, pointing between herself and Buffy. "Like sisters. Blood is blood. Tell me, why are you the only one with a fan club? I thought they'd like my outfit." Buffy recognized Faith's sweet, floral-printed dress from an old dream. "I guess it doesn't match."

"Why are we here? And where is—" Buffy looked over her shoulder. It was night again. She was facing Spike's crypt. Reaching out in front of her, she edged toward the stone door.

"Do you want to see what's on the other side?" Tara's voice called.

When Buffy looked to her left, Tara was standing there, holding the garnet necklace Spike had gifted her in her palm. "I've seen so much already. My eyes are tired."

Tara's lips curved up on one side. "We're all tired." Her face was distorted for a moment, then her eyes glowed white. "That is the life we are chosen for."

Buffy saw a flash, Willow and Xander sitting on a couch, Willow choking and Xander with his chest bleeding out. As soon as she realized what it was, they disappeared, replaced again by white-eyed Tara in the graveyard.

"But you weren't chosen," Buffy whispered.

"I am the Voice for the Voiceless. For her. For Them."

"They have no power here," Buffy shot back. She looked down at her hands. Mr. Pointy appeared, felt too heavy to hold.

"She has power here. Her sandbox. They want you to know."

Buffy looked up again and it was sunny. The desert. But this time, only Buffy and Tara stood, squinting at one another. "Then they should tell instead of show."

"Do not invoke her wrath," Tara said, her voice echoing like she was speaking over a recording of herself. "She works alone. You are all gears. All you need to do is turn in the right direction."

Buffy blinked and she was in The Magic Box. The only light came from candles flickering all over the place. She could feel Spike's presence behind her, waited for him until he wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed the pulse point on the side of her neck. "It'll be our little secret, pet. They like to work in secrets, yeah? Don't want to burden you. Never want to—"

He was yanked away from her suddenly. Then Buffy turned, saw him, shirtless, thrown onto a man-sized cross between her and the front door of The Magic Box.

"Can we rest now, Buffy?" he whimpered as his body sizzled and the cross smoked.

She turned away, refusing to look, her chest tight as her tears spilled, but she could still hear him.

"Can we rest?"

"This doesn't happen," she gasped.

"Perhaps."

Buffy opened her eyes. Now Giles was standing at the table, a single book there.

"According to the text, all we need are four corners. We have the rest of the ingredients." He turned a page. "We are half of the ingredients."

Buffy tip-toed toward him. "Is it safe?"

"Yes, yes. Perfectly safe. I never let you run with scissors."

"She doesn't ever let me play on her team."

Buffy looked past Giles to see Riley pouting.

Xander patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, big guy. You can play on my team. I'm thinking big cement." He pointed to Buffy. "You get William. But don't tell him I said so. He can help you tear it from Frankenfreak's middle. It's this big glowy thing."

"Uranium," Riley muttered out of the side of his mouth, avoiding eye contact with Buffy. "I studied for the final."

Everything went to black again. All there was was Spike's voice:

"I'm always on your team, pet. Any game you wanna play. I'll be dust long before I let you fall and skid your knee."

Buffy sat straight up in bed, wheezing. She couldn't breathe. Why was it all dark? She wasn't buried. She couldn't be buried. Buffy ran her hands over her forehead. No lumpies. A hand on her shoulder made her swing her arm out. When she made contact, she heard a grumbled little "bloody hell."

"Spike?"

"Yeah? What happened to you? Have that mayor snake dream again?"

Spike turned on the lamp next to the bed. Buffy looked to the window. It was way after dark. She shook her head, trying to remember half of the crazy stuff from the dream. Spike wiped his hand over his face.

"What the hell time is it anyway?"

"We have to go see Giles." Buffy grabbed her nearest sweater and pulled it on. "Where's your coat?"

"Downstairs. Give a bloke a minute."

xxxxx

"Do you want to start without them?" Willow tapped the pen in her hand against the big notebook in front of her.

Her and Buffy and Tara and Xand all sat at the table in The Magic Box. Anya was off doing something with money or inventory or something. Buffy hadn't really kept track, too intent on holding onto the details of the weirdo slayer dream. She shook her head, barely remembering that Wills had asked a question.

"They've been back there too long," Buffy mumbled.

"There's no shouting," Xander said with a yawn. "That's gotta be a good sign, right?"

"I'm going to check on them." Buffy slammed her hand on the table, rose, and headed for the practice room. Spike and Giles had gone back there supposedly for some book Giles had been reading (which, really, why they both had to go was beyond her), and it'd been forever. When she was close to the doorway, she heard the hushed voice action going on.

"How much detail does it go into?"

"Much as I could remember given all the things I've been through since. Hopin' you won't need to read it, but I'm not lettin' her die before me. Not again."

"I'll keep it safe. Are you sure—"

"I can't burden her. Not with this. Wouldn't forgive myself."

Buffy, jaw set and fire in her eyes, walked into the practice room. Giles and Spike both looked at her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Never you mind." Spike sucked in his cheeks, his glaring an attempt to distract her from the fact that Giles was fumbling with some tiny black notebook.

"What is that?"

"Buffy, it's rather—that is—"

"It's what's gonna happen in the next couple o' years if things remain as they were first time around. As I remember 'em anyway."

"Spike wants me to hold onto this, in case—well, should any harm befall him as we face Adam, we'll be more equipped to avoid an unpleasant fate."

"You weren't going to tell me." Buffy curled her lip, looking between the both of them. "You two _really_ don't get it, do you?"

"Buffy, I—"

"Look, Slayer—"

"No. You don't want to screw things up, fine. But at least be honest with me. I deserve that. Making decisions for me and secret meetings? It's the kind of thing that..."

Buffy knew, from the flicker across Spike's face and the guilty bow of Giles' head, that she didn't have to finish the thought to let them know that it was exactly the kind of crap that Angel would've pulled on her. She didn't think either of them particularly found that flattering, which was good since they weren't supposed to.

"I didn't mean nothin' by it," Spike said, rolling his eyes. "I just didn't want you thinkin' I'd given up on the battle 'fore we even went in."

Buffy wiped her hand over her hair, exhaling slowly to steady herself. "I know you guys want to do the right thing. And I don't need to see what's in there, okay? But I don't like the sneaking around on me junk. Didn't we just have the whole 'we need to work together' set of talks, or have I been imagining that?"

"Too right." Giles smirked. "It's a mistake we'll not repeat."

Spike grumbled. He shifted from one foot to another, then locked eyes with Buffy. "'less we're talkin' prezzies or surprise parties or somethin'." He pointed at her. "You'll just have to deal, Summers."

"C'mon," Buffy said, forcing down a crack about how her birthdays and surprises were rarely mix-y things in a good way. "We've got a whole lotta dream to go Freud on and not tons of time. I doubt Adam's waiting much longer to try his whole attack-The-Initiative rabbit trick again."

xxxxx

"Here it is!" Tara tapped on the book about crystals she'd been skimming through as they were all trying to pick apart Buffy's slayer dream. "Garnet is a stone associated with passion, blood, fire, and the primeval."

"So vampires," Harris said.

"And Slayers," Buffy muttered, her lip caught in her teeth. "Faith mentioned blood. Something about blood being blood. And sisters?"

A lump caught in Spike's throat. Between that and the green light in the distance, it was fairly obvious to him but a complete puzzle to the rest. Maybe The Powers wanted to let him know they were on the right track to having Dawn be born, at least for now. "The birds in the desert. Any of 'em a lady with my coat and an afro? Or a Chinese bird?"

"I couldn't see, really," Buffy said, looking up at him. Her eyes were so distant. Spike just wanted to scoop her up and tuck her in for some rest. But there was work to be done first. "Just Kendra and Faith."

"So you agree with Willow's theory?" Giles interjected. "You think they were all the previous Slayers?"

"It makes sense," Anya nodded. She hopped up onto the counter next to the register, taking it for her seat. "I mean, that enjoinment spell would bond you with the Slayer, not just Buffy's soul."

"Which leads to bleeding chests and suffocating badness," Xander supplied.

"Tara... um, dream Tara... said that we couldn't make _her_ angry. Made it sound like the enjoinment spell was bad juju but... that we didn't need it?"

Red flipped back a page in her notebook. "Um, you said that dream Giles told you we were half the ingredients."

"Right. Four corners, the potion Tara made, the Electra spell thing-y."

"Anyone gonna guess about the Spike and the cross thing?" Lady Vengeance blurted.

"Been avoiding that part, actually," Harris grumbled.

"No need. I know what it means. Not important," Spike added. "Just a reminder of somethin'. Prolly meant for me." If he had to guess, might've been somethin' that slipped into Buffy's head during the memory sharin' spell crap.

"Right then." Rupert cleared his throat. "Riley was throwing a fit, you said?"

The Slayer nodded, missing entirely Spike and Xander's snickers. "Yeah. But Xander let him play on his team."

"I'll play baseball with Riley!" Harris slammed his hand on the table and pointed at her. "Wait. That can't be right."

"You led the brigades." Spike stood from the edge of the table, jerking his head toward the boy. "With the snake mayor. Remember your rantin' to me last night?"

"Ooh, Xander!" Wills slapped his shoulder. "Your fake military experience. We're gonna have our hands full with Adam. You can help them fight the demons when they get loose!"

"Points to Endora over there," Spike said, tapping his nose.

"They're not just gonna let me waltz in and take over," Xander protested.

"Finn's a big boss in those parts," Spike said. "Might help to have him on your team. Given that we've got the inside scoop, the moron might be willin' to listen. Maybe."

"If he's decided to utilize a single cell between his ears, yes," Giles murmured, reading over some important-lookin' text or another.

"Want me to rough him up?" Anya asked brightly with a little swing of her legs as they hung over the side of the counter.

"Might not be the best course of action," the boy said. "Maybe if I go talk to him alone he'll be less 'grr, argh?'"

"Worth a shot," Tara said. "He might be reasonable. Maybe."

"You should take a crossbow with you," Anya said.

"Agreed." Rupert nodded.

Wills snapped her fingers. "Remember when the high school was possessed?"

"Which time?" Buffy and Harris both said at once.

"When—" Her whole face fell. "Oh." She shot Rupert an unsure little fluttery look.

"When I thought Jenny was back," he said.

"Yeah. Uh, yes. We set up Magnus tripod. One of us chanting at the hotspot, the other three making a triangle around them?"

"Fascinatin' stuff there, love," Spike said. He pulled a cig from his pocket, searching for his lighter. "What's this got to do with His Most Shiny and Long-winded One?"

The Earth Mother tilted her head, her lips moving without sound for a moment. "We could, if there were more than one or two of us, cast the Electra spell over the whole Initiative. Tweak the tripod just a little, chanting at four corners instead, like the dream said?"

"Perhaps using the Nyxian talisman to enhance the ability to kill the electricity." Rupert stared off, nodding. "It might be enough to destroy their entire operation."

"Would that really work?" Buffy asked, hope creeping back into her voice.

"In theory," Willow said.

"So, what? You two and Giles and Anya?"

"Then you n' I go in, draw Adam out." Spike lit up and was honestly shocked when he didn't get a reprimand from a one of 'em. "He seems fixated on us. Shouldn't take more than a minute of us bein' in there before he shows his ugly patchwork mug."

"The four of you guys get the electric spell thing going," Buffy said. "And me or Spike will hit him with the potion when we see him."

"Uranium," Tara whispered, reading from Wills' notebook over her shoulder.

"Must be some kinda glow-y battery," Harris said. "Break it while he's down."

"Probably not gonna be that easy with a uranium battery," Willow said as she chewed the end of her pen. "But detaching it should at least keep him powered down."

"We can send it to another dimension," Anya suggested. "Like the crazy melty land."

"Any guarantee that'll keep 'im down?" Spike took a drag. "Gettin' this uranium whatsit away from him, I mean. Surprises ain't my cuppa these days."

"I'll bring in the Initiative boys," Xander added. "Have them keep him all bound up or something, just in case. Gonna have to leave out the part about the spell that's gonna take out all their tech-y do-dads being our fault, though."

"We could cut him up, like The Judge," Spike offered.

"Or I take him to the construction site at night and happen to bury him there in twelve feet or so of cement."

"Big cement." The Slayer nodded like somethin' profound had been said. "So, we'll get our battle prep on tonight, and aim for tomorrow?"

"What's to say Adam will even take the bait?" Giles said.

Buffy smirked over at Spike. "Like he said, Adam can't seem to pass up an opportunity to try and recruit us. We're there, he'll show."

"Want a ride home, Slayer?"

"Nah." She stood from the table. "Think I'll walk to campus, make sure Tara and Wills get home alright. Us girls've got a quick errand to run. I'll meet you at your crypt in a couple of hours?"

Spike raised an eyebrow at her before taking his time smashing out his cigarette against the side of a bookshelf. "Alright," he said, dragging out the word.

"Trust me." Buffy glided over to him, stretching up for a quick peck on the lips. "Just a couple of hours and then I'm all yours, okay?"


	42. Chapter 41

_For Quindecim, Cloongarvin, RKF22, RAGAnne, and the guest reviewer, because your guys' reviews are so, so awesome to read! :)_

 _LONG chapter this time! (Well, in terms of this story, anyway.)_

 _Warning: Much smut. Smutty smut smut. And a little naughtier than usual for this fic, but all in good fun. Plus, some emotional-type things sprinkled in there. (Points to those who see the canon reference/twist toward the end.)_

 _Next chapter... Well, Warren's been dealt with. There's another jerk of a guy who's still hanging around. He might make a brief appearance. Then there is, of course, the matter of the Big Bad to be dealt with..._

 _Enjoy, and see you all tomorrow! ;)_

 **Chapter 41**

Spike tried playing with the telly for a good while when he first got back to his crypt, but the only things on were _ER_ and some crappy cartoons. He couldn't keep still, and even having been through half a pack couldn't get his hands to steady. Buffy was off doin' something, but he had no clue what. He just hoped she hadn't decided to go off and patrol on her own. Killing something might be enough to ease him, and he sure as hell planned on giving it a go. Just when he was reaching for his duster to head out and get to a patrol of his own, the door swung open.

"Slayer."

"Hey Spike." Buffy closed the door behind herself. She was holding one of her hands behind her back.

Spike flicked his eyebrows at her as she approached, eyeing the arm curled around her, out of sight. "Brought me a cookie, did you?"

She smiled without parting her lips. "Close your eyes?"

Spike did so immediately, his twitching grin threatening to turn into a laugh.

"I'm gonna give you this, but you don't actually have to like it, okay? I mean, I know it's probably some cheap thing that you'll hate, but I just saw it and thought of you and wanted to... I mean, there's only so many things that I could think to—"

"Slayer." Spike opened his eyes and took a deep breath to keep from taunting her about babbling. Something shiny in his girl's hand caught his eye. "What's that?"

Buffy held it out to him, presenting it just beyond his nose until he took it. It was some ornate silver ring with a huge, honking red stone in its center. "I didn't know when your birthday was, so I couldn't get you your birthstone, unless I lucked out and you also have a January birthday?"

"Hardly remember anymore," Spike muttered, slipping the ring onto his finger. "Haven't celebrated it since..." Well, since his mum was around to make it special. Dru certainly wasn't off buyin' him cakes and trinkets, not like he did for hers. As Buffy started to fidget with her necklace, Spike glanced at the stone, then at his new ring again. "They both garnet?"

The Slayer looked off to the side, unusually bashful and cautious. "Yeah. Sorry. You probably think it's super corny and all high school girly."

"Hush." Spike laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. "I love it, kitten."

"Really?" Buffy's whole face softened. "I thought, you know, for luck tomorrow?"

Spike pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him. He couldn't help it—her giving him the ring reminded him of all sorts of things. It reminded him of the champion's necklace, though hopefully a whole lot less sunny, but it also reminded him of when he'd given her the ring he'd had on him, as a place keeper, when Red's spell had them engaged back around Thanksgiving. Some glimmer of that possibility set all kinds of ponce-y ideas prancing about his noggin.

First, they had to survive the Adam mess. Then he could entertain the impossible.

For right now... "Anythin' else you wanna do for luck?" Spike chuckled in her ear, expecting to be called a pig and maybe get a slap to the chest or somethin'. Instead, she pulled just far enough back to look at him, the predatory look in her eyes and the seductive little curve of her lips getting his attention right quick.

"Yeah. I mean, it could be our last night on Earth and all. But there's some stuff I left back at Stevenson. So, if you don't want to walk that whole way, I totally understand."

"DeSoto can do turns in Sunnydale at ninety miles per hour," Spike said. He reached into his pocket for his keys.

"Oh good," the Slayer said, keeping her voice low. She backed toward the door of the crypt, her eyes never leaving his, more powerful than any thrall Dru or Drac could've mustered over anythin'. "Because I think I forgot to mention..." Now she twirled, her golden hair spilling around her shoulders as she started out for the graveyard. "There might be outfits."

xxxxx

Spike hadn't been sure what to think about the outfits comment, other than the Slayer was likely yanking his chain. But when she told him to get comfortable on her bed, he did, kicking off his boots and tossing his duster aside. Buffy had run off to the ladies' room of the dorm. He reclined back against her girly little pillows and comforter, hands under his head. Just when he felt himself starting to drift off to sleep, her door opened and shut again. She tossed some gym bag to the side, standing there in her bathrobe and high heels.

"Was beginnin' to think you'd forgotten about me, pet." He curled his tongue behind his teeth, stretching out and watching his girl watch him.

The Slayer stood there stunned for a moment, until she locked the door and slowly slid the robe from herself. When she was done, she stood in nothin' but the heels and a sheer pink nightie with matching panties. Spike couldn't help his jaw hanging open, and he didn't really care if it made him look like an idiot. She was stunning, soft and sweet and so like she'd looked Christmas Eve at her mum's place. Buffy walked toward the bed, crawling in next to him. She propped her head up with one hand, laying on her side, her golden hair in soft waves around her tan shoulders. She giggled after he'd been staring at her for God knew how long.

"Spikey like?" she asked between giggles, batting her eyelashes.

Spike reached forward, pausing like he wasn't supposed to touch. Then he did, his fingers grazing along her sides from hip to shoulder. "You are a fuckin' vision, love, you know that?"

Then he pounced her, shifting her to lay on her back as he kneeled on the very end of her bed. Spike leaned forward, kissing the smooth skin of her knee, down her calf, and stopping at her ankle. Buffy twitched just a little, as though she might be ticklish. When he saw her face, she was just observing him with bright eyes. Spike smirked. He removed one high heel with a single kiss to the top of her foot, then mirrored it with its pair, tossing both the shoes over his shoulder.

"Hey! Those were expensive."

Spike bit his lip, working his way up her body. "I'm a bad man, love." His entire body was prone over her, hovering just out of contact. Spike lowered his face, lips an inch from hers. "What're you gonna do about it?"

Buffy flicked her eyebrows and before Spike was even really aware they were moving she'd had him flipped on his back and pinned to the bed, her knees on either side of his waist and her hands on his wrists. "Slayer perks."

"Mm-hmm," Spike moaned, looking her up and down.

Buffy leaned back, freeing his wrists. "Take off your shirt."

"Givin' orders now, are we, pet?"

"Well, I guess you don't want to have fun." Buffy hopped off of the bed in one graceful movement, her bare feet padding toward the corner of the room. She reached into some drawer or another for something.

"Give a bloke a minute there, Slayer." Spike shook his head, yanking the black tee off. When he had a clear line of sight again, Buffy was facing him with an opened can of whipped cream.

"Ah, good." Buffy sprinted for him and sprung forward, sending him back flat against her pillows again. Spike curled his arms around her middle as Buffy kissed his shoulder, then his neck, and paused over his lips.

"This is a pre-battle ritual I think I could get used to." Spike bumped his nose against hers, then combed some of her loose hair behind her ear.

Buffy watched his hand as he did. She sat up on his stomach, gently taking his hand and pulling it toward her. She ran her thumb over his new ring. Spike brought her hand to his lips, brushing her knuckles with a kiss.

"Everythin' alright up there?"

"Hmm?" Buffy stirred herself. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Slayer brain wouldn't turn off for a second."

"Uh... weren't thinkin' 'bout staking me, were ya?" Spike admitted to himself there were worse ways to go than with his Slayer giggling and teasing him and just seeing her happy. Didn't mean he particularly felt like dusting.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Don't be a bonehead."

She brought the tip of the whipped cream can to his chest, using it to draw a line down his middle. She gathered her hair over one shoulder and leaning forward, her tongue soft as she licked up the cream. Spike squirmed under her, and she grinned against his skin. When she came face-to-face with him, Spike noticed a bit of whipped cream on her nose. He kissed her there, then ran his tongue over his lips.

xxxxx

"I hope the watcher lets us sleep in for the next twelve hours, Slayer," Spike said as they laid side-by-side on the floor of her dorm room. "Pretty sure I burned off all the blood in m'system already."

Buffy's hair covered most of her face. She still wore the little teddy thing, though her panties were long since torn away and tossed. Spike was starkers, head to toe. He draped his forearm over his forehead, indulging in the very rapid heartbeat of his post-orgasm Slayer. Buffy rolled over on top of him. One of her hands clutched onto his left bicep. She shifted herself, her teeth latching on to the right side of his neck. Spike moved the arm from his forehead, tangling his fingers in her long blond hair. She only pulled at his skin caught between her teeth harder, a half-moan, half-growl vibrating from her throat through his skin. Spike groaned, his mouth hanging open as she made him hard in a span of ten seconds.

"Ooh!" Buffy detached herself from him all at once. She hopped to her feet, making way for her little fridge again.

Spike grumbled at the early loss of contact, but his grumbling quickly lost out to a yawn. "Do I get to cover you in sugar this time, pet?"

"No! I ran some errands, remember?"

"Vaguely." Spike was having trouble even keeping his eyes open at this point. The image of Buffy on top of him, letting go, just enjoying herself and enjoying them, was enough to convince him to nod off to a peaceful slumber.

"Here!" Buffy emerged with two pints of blood, holding them both out to Spike. He tilted his head.

"Seriously?"

"You and I are on the front lines against Adam," Buffy said, forcing the plastic containers into his hands before returning to the fridge. "Can't have you passing out on me, right?"

"Sure. Thanks." Spike cracked open the first container, the spicy scent unusual. He took a deep sniff.

"Tara added some burba weed," Buffy said. "She told me you like it, so she's got some stored in her room."

"Sweet little witch, that one."

Though Buffy's back was turned, he raised his container to her before drinking. By the time she returned to him, he'd drained it entirely. She sat cross-legged in front of him, some kind of Chinese takeaway carton in her hand. Buffy poked at the food inside with her fork, the corners of her lips drawn down tightly.

"What's going on in that head, Goldilocks?" Spike wondered if she'd be disturbed by him drinking the second pint, but she'd been the one to grab it for him, right? He took the risk, flicking off the top and sipping as he waited for her response.

"I was thinking about the battle tomorrow." Buffy tucked her chin toward her chest. "How scared I am."

"You'll win, Slayer. You always do." Spike tapped her foot with his own. "It's a bloody annoyin' habit of yours."

"But at what cost?" she whispered. "I don't want to lose you. Any of you. And there's no guarantee, even if we win, that we're all going to make it. And..." Buffy was eyeing the ring she'd gifted him again. "I know normal isn't waiting for us after this."

So the ring'd brought up the memories for her, too, of the engagement spell. And maybe that'd been what the whole frilly wear and night of giggles was about, too—Buffy wanted a few hours of normal before she was called, again, to do her duty. Might be, far as she knew, the last chance she had at it. And the sodding ring had evoked images of things they couldn't... Well, that wasn't true, was it?

"Normal, no. But there are some things we can have." Spike kept the inside of his cheek between his teeth to keep himself in check. "Might not be a day weddin' in the park, but somethin'?"

"Just make me a promise, Spike."

Spike set down his second blood container, half finished, and sat rigidly straight. "Anything, Buffy."

"Tomorrow, we need to be focused, to work together. I can't have you jumping in front of bullets for me or whatever. I can't fight Adam while I'm worrying about you being all sacrificial for me." She set aside her take-away. Buffy's watering eyes locked with his. "Can you promise not to leave me?"

Always got left, this girl. Loved everyone with all the fire she had, and the wankers never stayed, not a one. "Not ever, Slayer. Buffy. Hey, I died twice and sods haven't been able to get it to stick yet, right?" They both laughed as a tear escaped her. Spike reached forward and rubbed it away with his thumb. He rearranged his legs, kneeling in front of her. "Step for step, I'm with you." Spike grabbed Buffy's hands in his. "Not goin' anywhere."

"I love you," she whispered, only just audible over her rasping little breaths. "William."

Spike kissed her. "I love you, too, kitten."

Buffy drew him close for a kiss again. He felt her arms moving. Buffy pulled away, tugging her sheer bit of nightwear over her head. When she laid back, she was completely bare, her eyes soft as her chest rose and fell with soft little breaths. Spike rested a hand on her cheek, then let it wander down her shoulder, tracing the curve of her breast and then all the way down her side, finally resting on her hip.

Spike could see it, in her eyes. Had seen it before facing Glory, before they went after The First: that slight twinge of fear that this might be it for her, that slight sense of abandon. Buffy needed to calm, to get her mind off of it all, even for a little while. She deserved a moment's peace. He kissed one of her hips, then the other, gliding down her body and kissing along her split.

She gasped, her hips lifting toward him. Spike ran his tongue over her clit, lazily, enjoying the way it made his Slayer writhe. Her scent was intoxicating. When she held her breath for a bit, he placed a gentle hand against her stomach, could feel her spasming as he continued his attentions. Spike waited until she gasped and her body calmed again. With a final kiss there, he lifted himself, lining his body up with hers. For a moment, Buffy's eyes were clear of battle worry, clear of the Slayer.

She was—happy. Simply happy.

Spike slid inside of her. The pair of them sighed at the contact, relaxing and tensing in turn, each of them meeting the others' thrusts. Buffy worked her hands under his, lacing their fingers together against the floor as they picked up the pace. She gasped, eyes shutting and head tossed back.

Buffy loved him. They could bring on the bloody apocalypse. He wasn't going anywhere.

xxxxx

Buffy sat up, her hair all wild and kabloo-y. Spike crouched in front of her, rocking the total predator look. Buffy glanced around the room, blinking to get her eyes working right again. Unfortunately, she immediately brought her attention to the bag she'd been trying to keep hidden under the bed. Before she could turn to Wills' bed or the window or something instead, Spike had noticed it, too, and snatched it to look at the writing on the bag.

"Cupid's Lingerie and Accessories?" Spike did that infuriatingly sexy little smirky pout thing, raising his eyebrow.

"Snoop much?" Buffy yanked the bag from him, holding it against her stomach. She hoped he hadn't heard the—

Spike tilted his head. "Was that...?" He chuckled. "Slayer's been havin' naughty thoughts, has she?"

"Shut up." Buffy twitched her nose. Maybe he'd think it was funny? Ugh, who was she kidding? It was Spike. He wouldn't take it as a joke. She sighed. "Look, I wanted to get something pretty to wear for you, and Anya suggested this place in town."

"So when you and the Wiccas took the stroll back to campus..."

"They were helping me pick something." Buffy gnawed her lower lip under her canine. "Anya had suggested..." Buffy huffed and rolled her eyes. "Look, I thought it'd be a good joke and it made Tara all awkward which was kinda sweet and..."

Spike watched her, ready to wait forever until Buffy just spilled. Damn freakin' patient vampire. And there was a thought she never in a million years thought she'd have about Spike.

Buffy took a deep breath, reached into the bag, and pulled out the black leather cuffs, lined with fur on the inside and connected by a silver chain. "Funny, right?"

"Not the word I'd use, pet."

Something in Spike's eyes darkened as he looked her over. The lusty look made her stomach clench, made her want to jump him on the spot. And then she noticed, when her gaze on him wandered points south, that he was just as ready to go as she was. Buffy blushed when she realized she was staring at his cock, but didn't notice or didn't care as he reached down and pumped himself once.

"Anyway, it's not the kind of thing I'd just get, like, regularly. I'm not some kinda ho. Handcuffs? More for the likes of Faith."

"None of that, now." Spike moved, in all of a second, out of his crouching position, crawling up over Buffy. "That's not what that kinda thing's about. Least, not always. Doesn't hafta be."

"Uh-huh."

"Hey, I'm serious."

"Fine, Mr. Kinky Vampire." Buffy felt her heart speeding up when his face stopped just a hair away from hers. She let the cuffs fall into her lap. His body only barely touched her body, but she tried to keep herself from acting before he answered. "Then what's it about?"

Spike smirked, then kissed her. "Fun. Lettin' go. Trust." His voice fell heavy on that last word. He lifted one of his hands, caressing her shoulder. Spike leaned forward, nibbling gently at the side of her neck. Buffy could tell a stalling tactic when she saw one. When he pulled away from her so that they were nose-to-nose again, his eyes were intense and serious. "Buffy."

"Yeah, Spike?"

"Do you trust me?"

Buffy caught the preemptive wince. He didn't think she did trust him, not really, not this much. She'd never done something so... Parker had gone around telling everyone she was a skank because she'd slept with him, but they'd only had the simple, kissing and then sex and then sleep stuff. This was on a whole different level. She'd never...

And then Buffy started to think of all the other firsts with Spike. Not just the sexy firsts, like the amazing things he could do with his tongue or trying out different positions or whatever. Patrolling so naturally together, hanging with the Scoobies, playful easy banter. She had no reason to think that anything he wanted to do would hurt her or make her feel bad. Spike always made her feel amazing.

Buffy took each side of his face in her hands. "I trust you, Spike. Always."

She could swear his lower lip twitched, but Spike covered it by clearing his throat. Buffy curled her hand behind his head, pulling him close enough to kiss, continuing to kiss him as she laid back down on the floor. With the weight of his body on hers, her tongue only pushed harder against his, her fingers pressing into his now-loose bleached curls on the back of his head. Spike yanked the cuffs from Buffy's lap, breaking their kiss. He fussed with the belt-style buckles, opening them both.

Spike paused. "You sure you're okay with this, Goldilocks?"

Buffy nodded. "So long as you don't tickle me, we're good."

"Mm, well, tempting as that is..." Spike secured the cuff around her left wrist, then her right. He sat back up, straddling her hips. "That a'right?"

She stretched her arms over her head, testing it out. The insides were all fuzzy and soft, and she figured she probably shouldn't pull on them too hard or they'd snap like a toothpick. Buffy nodded.

Spike lowered himself, nuzzling her collarbone. He was making a low, rumbling sound, something less threatening than a growl but just as primitive. Buffy moaned, shifting her arms a little. His hands slid up, from her shoulders to her elbows. He kept her arms pinned in place, not pushing too hard but definitely keeping a firm grip.

Buffy couldn't help the gentle laugh as he started feather-light kisses from one end of her collarbone to the other. She figured maybe she shouldn't like this, that it _was_ actually the kind of thing that only girls like Faith did, or that at the very least she shouldn't trust a vampire to be nuzzling her while she was restrained.

But really? It was nice, just letting him make her feel good. She was totally relaxed and, for the first time all night, not really worrying about the upcoming Big Bad battle. Now Buffy was laughing outright.

Spike paused before kissing her between her breasts, glaring up at her. "You cracked, Summers?"

"No, just..." Now Buffy couldn't hold back the laughing, and it was only getting worse. She wriggled from side to side under him. "Big Bad."

"You don't start behavin' yourself," Spike said, the hint of a grin on his lips, "I'll have to nip you."

Buffy took a few deep breaths, calming herself and clearing her throat. "You vamps and your oral fixations," Buffy grumbled as she attempted to force on a more serious expression. As Spike continued watching her, just to make sure she was quite finished, Buffy stuck out her tongue.

"Cheeky bint." Without any warning, Spike clasped his fingers more securely around her elbows and latched his teeth onto the skin just over her ribs. Buffy closed her eyes immediately, her breath catching.


	43. Chapter 42

_Damn 503 errors._

 _This one goes out to RKF22 and the guest reviewer. The site's been a bit wonky, so be sure you read chapter 41! Hope the opening to Chapter 42 is as entertaining to read as it was to write. And fingers crossed Chapter 43 goes up tomorrow without a hitch. Then Chapter 44 is the last of this story!_

 **Chapter 42**

The Scoobies had decided Buffy and Willow's room was the best place to meet up, it being the closest to The Initiative and all. Of course, that meant that Buffy spent the early afternoon, while Spike slept on the floor with her lingerie draped over him like some kind of useless blanket, trying to clean the place up so it didn't scream sex and vamp/Slayer snuggles: Tossing the empty can of whipped cream and their emptied cartons, hiding in her underwear drawer the leather cuffs they'd both had on at some point, putting any clothing they didn't immediately need into her laundry basket. If they were going into battle, practical was probably the way to go. Buffy found one of her simplest patrolling outfits: boots, black pants, black tank, sheer white top over it.

Now she stood glaring at the floor, Wills and Tara sitting side-by-side on Willow's bed, their fingers intertwined. None of them had said anything since Anya had come up demanding Giles and Spike come to the first floor to meet Xander, who apparently needed helping carrying something.

When Tara cleared her throat, Willow and Buffy both jumped. "You guys, um, nervous?"

"Nah." Buffy put on the brave smile. "I mean, this is, what, Wills? Our fourth apocalypse? Fifth?"

"Oh, it's gotta be more than that, with all the near-miss ones," Willow agreed, a slight upward twitch of her lips.

Buffy walked to the bedside table, picking up her garnet necklace. She undid the clasp, securing it behind her neck. "At any rate, we're old hats at this. We'll be totally fine."

"Totally. And I won't let anything happen to you." Willow sealed the promise with a light kiss on Tara's lips.

"None of us will." Buffy nodded. The door opened, voices bursting in.

"—know I'm missing."

"I'm thinking they'll be a little busy with the cyborg reeking all the havoc."

"And just what the hell is more important than not being killed, Buster?"

Spike closed the door behind the lot of them, and Willow and Buffy's room was suddenly filled with eight people. One of them was Riley, struggling against Xander and Giles' restraint.

"'lo, pet," Spike said, sneaking away to Buffy's side.

"This has to be a dorm room violation. Like, a fire code something. Right?"

"That mean I can't smoke, then?"

"Buffy, would you tell them to be reasonable?" Riley begged. Anya locked the dorm door. "They'll listen to you."

"What is going on?" Buffy held her hands to her hips.

"Mr. Commando Cool Guy over here won't help," Xand said, finally releasing Riley's arm. Giles did the same, but more reluctantly. "He looked all twitchy, like he was going to tell his bosses we were coming as soon as he was out of sight. So I took him with me."

"Hold the phone." Spike's eyebrows shot up. " _You_ overpowered White Bread? Well, this is a sad day in Initiative history, innit?"

"I called in back-up," Xander said, nodding toward Anya over at the door.

"I find that a swift thrust of a knee to the testicles really makes it easier to make a man do what you want," she said, examining her nails. All the men in the room flinched. "Well, that and wielding the power of the wish."

"Way to go, Anya," Buffy said.

"Thank you. I appreciate your appreciation." Anya flashed a wide smile.

"Wh-what are we supposed to do with him?"

"Tie 'im up, gag 'im, stick 'im in the closet 'til we've saved the world," Spike muttered.

"That's certainly a viable possibility," Giles said, glaring at Buffy's one-time would-be boyfriend who wasn't. "And we won't waste valuable time, then."

"Or we could knock him out with a spell or a potion?" Willow suggested. "Unless that..."

"Yeah, no," Tara said, patting her hand. "I don't think that'd be bad. We can make a potion. It'll last six hours, give or take. Won't be painful or anything."

"You need to go shoppin' for it?" Spike asked.

Buffy glanced at him. She could tell by the way his eyes wouldn't focus on things and by how tightly he was holding his jaw that he wasn't exactly Mr. Easygoing about the battle in their near future. And Riley didn't exactly make any of them happy-go-lucky, either. Buffy reached for Spike's hand, linking their fingers. He didn't turn to her to acknowledge it, but he did squeeze her hand in silent thanks.

Tara shook her head, but Wills was the one who answered him: "I've got some herbs around here. A lot of my stuff is at Tara's, but I should have what we need. It'll take five seconds."

"Good," Giles said. "Spike, Buffy, I trust you'll have no issue keeping him up here as they gather what they need?"

"Hardly," Spike scoffed.

"Very well. Xander, Anya—we'll sort out weapon distribution and the paralysis potion and such downstairs?"

"Sounds like a plan, G-man."

"We'll be down there in, like, half a minute." Buffy and Giles smiled at one another before the three of them left.

"Buffy, you can't be serious about this," Riley said, his face curled up in disgust as he watched Tara and Willow pull all kinds of witchy things from the top drawer of Willow's dresser. "The Initiative will kill you on sight for this. It's treason."

"It's my job. I'm the Chosen One. You guys were the ones who decided playing in the big kids' sandbox was a brilliant idea."

"Just sit tight, G.I. Joe. Witches'll fix you up real good," Spike said. His eyes narrowed and his lips pouted. "And you'll catch up on some _much_ needed beauty sleep."

Buffy chewed on the inside of her cheek to hide a smirk. Tara, holding a ceramic mug, approached Riley.

"I'm not drinking that." Riley made the mistake of making a move for Tara's arm.

Buffy and Spike started for Riley at the same time, but Willow raised her hand first, sending him flying back onto her bed. Riley was... growling? Buffy guessed whatever the spell was, he couldn't move. Buffy took the cup from Tara, then nodded at Wills, who seemed to lessen her hold on Riley's mouth.

"Fine! I'll work with you."

"He'll turn on us second we're in there, love," Spike gently reminded Buffy from behind her.

"I know," she whispered back, approaching Riley. "It's too late, and we're past out of time. We'll leave you on the bed, alright?" Buffy sat on the edge, next to Riley but not touching him. "You'll be totally comfy, I promise."

Something in Riley's eyes hardened, setting off Buffy's danger senses. "Professor Walsh was right. You are a monster."

Buffy froze for a moment. He meant that. He really thought she was a monster.

She looked over her shoulder. He thought they were monsters, too. Spike, Willow, Tara. (Okay, Spike was, but c'mon. Monsters weren't _all_ evil, right? God, she sucked at being Slayer.) Buffy stirred herself, turning back to Riley. She spilled the flowery-smelling stuff from the mug into his mouth. He held the liquid there, if his puffing cheeks were any indication. Spike reached past Buffy, pinching Riley's nose shut. His face started to blue. It looked like he was about to spit the stuff up, but Buffy clamped her hand over his mouth until he was forced to swallow. Riley glared at them, even when his eyelids were drooping, until he finally drifted off all the way.

xxxxx

They'd dropped Anya off at one of the caves, and Giles at the trapdoor hidden by shrubs on campus. Now that they were close to the Lowell House, Xander was going to make his stop. He, Buffy, and Willow all paused, looking to one another as Tara and Spike stood off to the side, talking amongst themselves.

"So this is it," Willow said. "Another apocalypse, and then a carefree summer on the Hellmouth."

"And hey, bonus!" Xander said. "This time I don't have to root against us in favor of ultimate destruction to avoid finals!"

"Oh no!" Wills screeched. "I forgot all about finals. I'm going to flunk Ancient Pagan Rituals."

"Even if Adam grinds us into a fine paste," Buffy said, "I think you'd still ace it."

Xand shifted from foot to foot, his face all twisted up and worried. "I don't feel comfortable sending you in there alone," he said.

"I won't be," Buffy countered, taking his hand.

"I know that Spike is going with you, but—"

Buffy shook her head. "You'll all have my back. And I'll have yours. I promise. It'll be okay." Buffy hugged him, and Willow wrapped her arms around them both.

"Yeah," Willow said. "Adam is toast. Not even good, buttery toast. Charred, wouldn't feed it to the dog toast."

Buffy made a happy little sigh, taking the second they had to appreciate how warm and loved and human hugging her two best friends made her feel. She wanted to hold onto that, going into The Initiative, even though on the outside she'd be Super Slay Girl.

xxxxx

Spike and Buffy had made it to the main floor of The Initiative. Spike tried to guess the door to Adam's lab as close as possible. They could hear the demon fighting in the hall down the way, and Buffy hoped that Xander was alright and not a) arrested, or b) getting hurt too bad. The other four were all probably still outside, but since they were positioned at the exits to try and make the spell more effective, if any demons or army dudes escaped her friends were still at risk. Every minute that passed where Adam didn't show only made Buffy more sick to her stomach.

When Spike pulled a dark blue rock from his pocket, Buffy tilted her head. "Don't think that's going to make much of an impact on him, Spike."

"It's from the Wiccas. When we see—"

A door close to The Pit slammed open and, as if on cue, Adam moseyed out. He was followed by three cyborg-y humans, guys who looked like they might've been with the Initiative if it weren't for the robo wires and demon limbs. Spike smashed the rock against the ground. It let out little blue lights that floated up toward the ceiling and then disappeared.

"Ready, Spike?" Buffy asked, lifting her crossbow.

"Ready, Slayer." Spike pulled the knife he'd brought with him from his duster pocket.

Buffy and Spike started for Adam and his lackeys. They had to save the weapons for Adam. Giles had helped them cover the knife and the three crossbow arrows in Willow and Tara's potion, and it'd be all that kept Adam down long enough to do anything useful. One of the lackeys lunged at Spike while two attacked Buffy. Buffy saw Spike pull at the lackey's wires before she had to duck. She punched the one on her right in the gut before realizing that its middle was apparently metal.

"Freakin' ow!" she griped. Buffy kicked out at her side and sent the one on her left flying over Spike and smashing to the wall closest to them.

While she was turned, the one left standing in front of her smacked her in the face, sending her tumbling to the floor. Buffy growled, flipping to her feet and swinging her crossbow to smash the cyborg thing in the side of the head. It didn't do much besides stun it. Buffy's arm swung up just as the cyborg took a step toward her. The motions ended with the crossbow's loaded arrow in the cyborg's human-y eye. The cyborg grabbed Buffy by the throat, lifting her in the air. She could hear Spike calling out "Slayer!" somewhere behind her.

"Now, see," Buffy gasped despite the slimy demon hand curled around her throat, "you went and made me waste one of my good arrows. Now it's just useless." She pulled the trigger. The arrow went straight through the cyborg's head, taking some wires and goopy brain-type stuff along with it. The cyborg and Buffy collapsed to the ground as one.

Buffy spun around. Spike was fending off Adam's mechanical arm. The knife was on the floor, way out of reach. Buffy loaded her crossbow again, taking aim. Adam flung Spike, crashing him into Buffy like a bowling ball into a pin. They were back on their feet again in no time. Buffy handed Spike the last, third arrow to use by hand.

"Thought you were all 'bout recruitin' us, mate."

The pair of them took opposite routes, circling Adam on either side.

"Yes, that would be preferable. But that seems to be a goal that has proven... unattainable."

"Shame," Buffy said, setting up on his right. "'Cause we are so gonna kick your ass."

Adam spun as she lunged. "I see you have not brought any companions with you but your mate."

Buffy felt something sharp in her side. It was only when she saw the Polgara spike pulling out of her that she realized she'd been skewered. The white shirt covering the lower half of her right side was torn, soaked with one huge blood stain. Buffy stumbled back, holding onto her wound.

"This break in your strategy grants me a severe advantage."

"Buffy, no!"

Spike charged Adam from behind, but Adam barely seemed to notice, taking his time to turn. Spike vamped, punching into Adam's middle again and again and again. Just when Spike pulled the arrow from where he'd stored it in his coat, Adam hit him so hard that Spike went flying about to the same place that Spike's knife had landed.

Buffy took in a huge gulp of air, lifting the crossbow. Adam turned. Spike had hit some kind of seam in Adam's torso stitching, because he had a huge split down the middle (not that it slowed him down any). Buffy pulled the trigger, and the arrow hit and stuck just to the left of the split, embedding in some of his demon-y skin.

Adam grinned. "That is not enough to damage an evolved hybrid species such as myself. A concept with which you should already be quite familiar."

Buffy bit so hard on her lower lip that she drew blood, but it was the only thing she could concentrate on to continue standing upright. Adam started walking toward her. Buffy glanced over at Spike, only barely struggling to his feet. Eyes back on Adam, she noticed that he was slowing down, dragging his feet, and he looked like he was in a hell of a lot of pain.

Then the lights all went out and she could hear Adam collapse with a thud that vibrated the floor.

Buffy wheezed, dragging herself in Adam's direction. They didn't have a ton of time. Spike was at her side in less than two steps, holding her elbow. She could see his golden eyes shining even in complete darkness.

"Love, I can smell... How much blood've you lost?"

"Lots," Buffy groaned, continuing toward Adam with Spike at her side. "I think... I think I'll be okay. Slayer healing, right?" Buffy winced, not quite sure she even believed that herself but knowing they had to finish the mission before they worried about whether or not she was still in possession of her intestines.

Spike cleared his throat. She could feel, just by the hesitation in how he was walking, that he wanted to take care of her. Buffy was glad she'd made him promise. "Here, right here." He tugged very lightly on where he had her by the elbow and she stopped. When she saw Spike kneel, she followed. "When I hit him last, went nearly all the way through."

"Ew." Buffy was half reacting to Spike's words, half reacting to the stench of demon guts that was all too familiar.

"Point is, I felt somethin'. 'Bout the size n' shape of a pint glass. Might just be the battery we're lookin' for."

"As the most wounded of us, dibs on not having to be the one to stick my hand in demon guts."

"Dinnt know you were such a princess, Slayer."

Buffy could almost hear the smile in his voice. She tried to keep pressure on her side, but she didn't know that the hospital was going to be avoidable for this one. Buffy winced when she felt a muscle or nerve or something in her middle that she didn't know she had burning and stinging. Okay, so strike that—Hospital was first thing on the to-do list after _Destroy Initiative._

She could hear Spike digging around in squishy demon guts. There was something to be said for passing out—namely, she wouldn't have to hear that sound and risk barfing.

"Here." Spike pressed something warm and gunk-covered into her hands.

"Alright. Um." Buffy swayed where she was kneeling.

All at once, the lights came on in The Initiative and Buffy fell to her side. Her eyelids were too heavy; she had to close them. The cool tile against her skin felt like sizzling. She could feel Spike's equally cool hands on the sides of her neck, could hear his voice too far away to reach:

"Slayer! Slayer." A growl, possessive. She didn't think it was aimed at her. "Back off." Then a pause. "Buffy?"


	44. Chapter 43

_Make sure you've read Chapters 41 and 42. FF went all wonky on us, and I don't want any of you guys lost and confused!_

 _So, so much foreshadowing in this one! I love me some Slayer dreams. I'll leave it up to you to guess what's coming, what's from the spell with Spike's memory, and what's just crazy dream junk. Have fun. ;)_

 _Tomorrow's chapter will be the last in this installment. (But there are two more stories coming down the line, don't you worry!) I'll have an author's note at the end of tomorrow's chapter with more details._

 _In the meantime, this one is dedicated to TieDyeJackson, Quindecim, RAGAnne, momnesia, SoaringClaws, RKF22, madcloisfan, and Roscommon._

 **Chapter 43**

Buffy was sixteen, wearing that purple leopard print jacket and...

She looked up, saw her mother's face looking through a hole broken into a door. "Mom?"

"Shh," her mother whispered, looking around. "We don't have a hall pass. Mr. Snyder will give you detention. I don't want you detained on my account. You deserve carnivals and white lace and tricks-or-treats."

"Do you know? What I am?" Her mother... Did her mother remember that she was the Slayer?

Had Buffy been dreaming?

Her mother smiled. "You think you know. But you haven't even begun."

Buffy squinted. "What?"

Singing. She could hear singing, all around her. Buffy couldn't quite catch the words, but the voice was so familiar, in a fuzzy kind of way. Calming.

"Different kind of beast," Joyce said. "All these beasts, double faces, looking for Little Red Riding Hood. Did you take her to the mall? Lil' punnkin belly."

Buffy shook her head. She looked down the hall, saw Spike in vamp face carrying a pole. His lips weren't moving, but she could hear him singing. The singing wasn't like it was normally. It was like... trying to remember a memory that wasn't hers.

"Mom, I'll be right back."

Spike's voice was in Buffy's ears, echoing, as he approached: "...heard a young maid sing in the valley below. Oh, don't deceive me. Oh, never leave me. How could you use a..." Now his lips moved: "...poor maiden so." Spike grinned, licking his fangs. "Fe fi fo fum. I smell the blood of a nice, ripe..."

The entire hall was covered in sunlight. It was daytime, but there were no students. Spike wasn't in game face anymore. Instead of a pole he was holding his red button-down all bundled up in a ball.

"You shouldn't touch things that aren't yours," Buffy scolded.

"Who's to say what's not mine?"

Buffy reached out to lay her fingers on his bundled shirt but missed, touching the left side of Spike's chest instead. She could hear it. His heart. Beating. "How?"

"Shame on you, Buffy." He held the bundle to himself, cradling it. "Why does a man do what he mustn't? Should know the blood. Blood's the thing, innit? Always the thing." Spike looked over his shoulder at the doors. The sun was touching him, but it wasn't hurting him at all. He didn't even seem to notice. "Pretty green light. She's coming."

"Who?" Buffy started down the hall, towards the doors.

"Lots of shes. Coming, going. Too many to tell. So many pretty, witty—"

Buffy opened the door and found herself in her bedroom. The sheets were rumpled. "Faith and I just made that."

"Tell me about it, B." Faith walked in front of her, arms crossed over her chest. "You'd think you could get a decent night's sleep on the Hellmouth."

"We keep making the bed," Buffy pouted.

"They keep tossing and turning," Faith finished. She looked out the window. Buffy noticed it was blue out there, and she could see flashes of lightning. "Big Sis's clothes, huh? That's us, the Chosen Two. Bed sheets ain't quite forces of darkness, but hey." Faith smiled. "And then there's Bitty Buffy. One of his names for her, y'know."

"Are these his memories?"

"I'm hardly one to ask about the mystic crap. Tweed's not my style." Faith opened the bedroom window, sticking one leg out. "Some of it might be, I guess. It's all screwed up in here, and nobody wants to play house with me. It's why I'm on the front lines."

"I don't think we're supposed to go out there."

"Nah," Faith said. "Just me. I always was a bit of a badass. 'Sides, you've got a party to attend, right?"

"Buffy?"

Everything was dark for a minute. It was a girl's voice. She didn't recognize it.

"God, you're such a freak."

xxxxx

Spike needed to hunt something, kill something. He didn't want to leave her side, but he couldn't be here anymore, at least for a couple of hours.

Joyce had fallen asleep in the chair next to Buffy's hospital bed, her elbow on the bedside table and her hand keeping her face propped up. Buffy had been visited by a doctor at least every couple of hours since they'd gotten her here, but nothing'd changed. Buffy was alive, which was good, and Spike and Joyce pressured 'em to make sure she had enough blood in her system and such. Joyce and Rupert, both matches for the Slayer, had donated some, and so had Harris, since he was apparently O-neg.

But there was nothing Spike could do but stare at his Slayer from his seat by the window as she struggled to keep breathing, as she continued twitchin' and whimperin' in her sleep. If they were in bed together, cuddled up like they should've been after the big battle, he'd try waking her to disrupt whatever nightmare had her trapped. He'd tried, once, while Joyce was in the little girls' room, but it'd only made Buffy frown harder.

"Spike?"

He snapped up when something touched his shoulder. When Spike clenched together his laced fingers. Willow's hand recoiled instantly.

"How's our girl doin'?" Red whispered.

Spike shook his head. "Same." More 'n twenty-four hours at this point, and she was in the same damn condition.

"Why don't you come with me and Xander on patrol? Now that all the shops are closed up, Giles wants to spend some time here, and Tara and Anya offered to come sit with her, too. Tara thought she might read to her. Heard it does some good. Familiar voices and all."

Worth a shot, right? He'd have to try somethin' like that when he got back. Spike stood, getting on his duster and moving for the door without another word.

They'd been to Restfield, Shady Hill, even the docks. Not a single demon or vamp or so much as a naughty human in sight. When they finally made a round in Old Sunnydale Cemetery with the same results, Spike pitched his stake against the nearest crypt, half hoping it'd bounce back and just pierce his sodding heart. He thought back to the summer after the Slayer died, to nights where he was keepin' vigil over the Nibblet after she'd cried herself out and it was the only thing that kept him from impalin' himself on the next redwood he could find.

"Spike," Wills said.

Spike refused to turn to her, instead goin' into game face and kicking the headstone next to him so hard it split in two. He roared, pulling up one half of the split stone and sending it flying against the crypt as well, smashing it to pieces. He spun, saw Harris curled around Wills, holding her and covering her from any damage. Spike gritted his teeth, nostrils flaring as he tried to calm himself. Xander released Willow and the pair of Scoobies blinked at him.

"I should go," Spike said. "Get away from anyone I could hurt."

Harris shrugged. "Did it make you feel better?"

"Not really." Spike chewed the inside of his cheek and considered it. He forced his vamp features back, makin' himself look human again. "But I want to smash things a little less."

"When Xander heard," Red said, glancing between the two of them, "he was in the Initiative cells. Kicked a whole bunch of tiles straight out of the wall."

Spike hardened his jaw, looking to the night's sky. "You should just stake me."

"What?"

"It's my fault. I should've done a better job. If anyone shoulda gotten the short end of the sharp stick, shoulda been me."

"Yeah, well, if I'd actually been able to get Riley to listen to me instead of having to go in undercover as just one of the G.I. Joe rejects fighting the good fight, maybe you guys wouldn't have had to spend so long fighting Adam."

"Hell," Red chimed in, "if I were a better witch, I could've killed Adam with the power of my mind while watching Charlie Brown on Xander's couch."

"Now you're just bein' ridiculous."

Xander raised his eyebrows, holding his hands out in a 'Well, yeah' gesture. Boy was tryin' to turn this about on him.

"We could all blame ourselves," Wills said. She stepped closer to Spike, avoiding a particularly large piece of what was once headstone underfoot. "Or we can focus on making sure she gets better. I'll do whatever it takes, Spike. I promise."

"You can't..." Spike took a sharp inhale of breath that was too cold, stung him inside. "If she... You can't bring her back. S'not fair. To her."

Willow understood what he was gettin' at without him actually havin' to make much sense. "I won't let it get that far."

"Whole reason I gave up paradise was to make sure she'd be alright, and now..."

"Guys."

Willow and Spike both turned to Xander.

"If Faith can survive a coma, the Buffster is going to be just fine. Now let's go. I'm sure the others want to get home, get some showers, grab some non-hospital food, and get two hours of sleep before the morning."

"And hey!" Wills said, a bright little expression on her face. "Who knows? Army's keeping her taken care of. There might be Initiative guys around for you to taunt, Spike."

Harris grinned as he and Red started back for the edge of the cemetery. "I imagine this going like tourists with those guards in England who wear the funny hats."

Spike's lips twitched, almost a smirk. He started off toward the entrance of the cemetery with the others. "Well, alright. I love mucking things up for those Initiative gits."

xxxxx

Buffy was standing in her living room. So many gifts on the floor, wrapped in green tinfoil. Buffy shook her head, looking around. Willow, Anya, Xander, Tara all staring at her.

"It's normal, sweetie. Don't worry. Do you have an upset tummy?" Tara reached toward her, a hand on Buffy's middle. "Want some tea?"

"Or a bubble bath?" Willow offered. She leaned in close, whispering. "I have a spell. Could make it smell like a chocolate factory."

"Magic?"

"She made it to 22." Willow nodded conspiratorially.

Before Buffy could ask, Xander was talking. "Who wants pizza? I can drive and deliver! For I am pay day man."

Spike wrapped his arms around Buffy from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I need you, love. I promised not to leave you." His voice was different. Clearer. Felt more real. Buffy went to rest her hands on his, but they passed through. "But you gotta not leave me, too, right?"

Tara started swatting at something in front of her, something that wasn't there. "No! The place is cracking! No, no, no!"

"Is this old?" Buffy whispered. She wanted to reach for Tara, but she couldn't. Willow was brushing back Tara's hair, trying to comfort her, but Buffy couldn't catch the words she muttered.

"Broken dollies might get their fixin' done." Spike's voice was dream-like again, like Buffy was hearing it filtered through water. "Old, new, some things never change, love. Other things do, of course. Can't change it all. Not unless you'll pay the price. 68 kilos o' flesh, and one old coat. I'd do it. For the right person, I'd do it. You'd only have to say the word. Spark's a spark's a spark..."

They all disappeared. Buffy stood alone in the desert. She recognized this place. In her palm, Buffy held Spike's garnet ring. Inside, carved _113000_. But then the ring was gone, too, and she was standing face-to-face with a pretty woman, wearing Spike's coat, hair styled in an afro.

"Mission always comes first, baby girl."

"Are you one of them?" Buffy asked.

"I'm one of us. Gotta say, these dreams take me back."

"How'd you know? That it's a dream?"

The lady in Spike's coat laughed. "'Cause it ain't mine."

"They keep saying she's coming. Is it you?"

The lady only shook her head. Giles walked up next to the lady, resting a hand on the lady's shoulder. Then she turned to sand and was carried off by the wind.

"We'll need to train, you understand?"

"I'm always training, Giles. What am I training for?"

"They're trying to tell you, in their own way."

"They _are_ big with the cryptic."

The sky started to turn green.

"She needs you, Buffy. She needs you to protect her."

"I'm the Slayer."

"It's deeper than that," Giles said, frowning. "Much deeper."

"The stars they used to shine, but now my—"

"Spike?"


	45. Chapter 44

_And here I give you the final piece of "Make the Clock Reverse." More details in the author's note at the end._

 _Dedicated to RAGAnne, Quindecim, bwburke94, RKF22, madcloisfan, Cloongarvin, and TieDyeJackson._

 **Chapter 44**

Everything disappeared. Buffy could feel a bed against her back, and her throat was super dry. She wanted to cough, but she couldn't really move.

"The fun we used to have. At night I toss and turn, the memories they burn. I don't know how to..."

Buffy finally got her eyelids to lift, for half a second at a time, but she kept pushing herself.

"Spike!" Her mother. "Spike, oh my God. She's waking up."

"I'll go get the doc, Joyce. Sit with her."

Finally, Buffy's eyelids fluttered all the way open. She caught sight of Spike's duster as he flew out the door. Her mother was sitting next to her bed. But when Buffy looked around, she realized this wasn't her bed. It was all white and tile and itchy cotton. "Mommy?"

"Oh, sweetheart, I was so worried." Joyce sobbed, throwing her arms around Buffy and holding her tight.

"Where am I?"

"Hospital." Joyce released her, sitting back down on the edge of her seat. She took one of Buffy's hands in hers. "Spike can explain what happened. We just weren't sure... You'd lost a lot of blood, he said, and the doctors weren't sure how quickly you'd recover."

"Slayer perks, yay." She coughed. Buffy adjusted herself, propping her back against her pillows. Everything pretty much ached, but she could especially still feel the digging, burning hole tugging in her side where she'd been shish-ka-bobbed.

Spike returned with a nervous guy in a lab coat. The lab coat guy, who she guessed was the doctor, checked some of the machines next to her. Then he fit some kind of beeping cuff thing around Buffy's wrist, poking at buttons and just watching it forever. Buffy looked to her other side, where an empty blood bag was hanging and a water bag was still attached to her hand by a long tube and a needle.

"Is she alright?" Joyce pushed when the doctor said nothing.

"Ma'am, I need a minute," the doctor sniped. Even too tired to move, Buffy opened her mouth to tell him off. She didn't get the chance.

"Mate, I know you dinnt just take that tone with the lady," Spike growled from the corner.

"Sorry," the doctor mumbled, taking the beepy cuff from Buffy's wrist. "I just want to be accurate. It seems that you, Miss Summers, are mostly in the clear."

"Oh thank God," Joyce sighed.

"Now, over the next week you may still have the occasional symptom. Dizziness, confusion. You likely won't be able to walk or stand on your own for more than ten, maybe fifteen, seconds at a time at first. It looks like your blood pressure is still perilously low and, if I had to guess, your pulse rate still is as well. But you're much closer to a normal range. Rest, hydration, and some nutritional caloric intake will help, and we'll continue your current dosage of pain medication as well."

"Thank you, Doctor," Buffy said, her voice gravelly.

The doctor nodded to each of the three of them before leaving the room.

"So can we go now?" Buffy groaned. She tried to rearrange herself, but it only made her ache more.

"I'll go get the paperwork taken care of," her mother said, standing immediately. "We had them show us how to change your bandages at home. I know how you hate hospitals. And tonight I'll make whatever you want for dinner, hmm?"

"Sounds great, Mom." Buffy attempted a smile as her mother left the room.

Spike shuffled toward her, studying her with his mouth tightly shut. Buffy looked toward the windows of the place, and realized the blinds were closed.

"Is it daylight already?"

"Slayer, it's been three days."

"I was asleep for three days?" she shrieked.

"Yeah." Spike exhaled, taking Joyce's seat. "Gave us all a good an' proper scare."

"Oh God." Buffy sat up straighter, the pain be damned. "Giles and Xand and Wills and—"

"Shh, shh." Spike rested a hand on her shoulder, probably thinking she was about to hop out of bed and take off. "All of 'em fine. They're all at work. Xander's at the construction site, Tara's watchin' your mum's shop, and the others're at The Magic Box. They've been comin' by, when they can. I've been tradin' patrols with 'em, too."

"Adam?"

"Very dead, kitten. Chopped into messes and melted down for scrap that Harris then buried in cement at three 've his work sites."

Buffy sat back, slightly, and Spike rubbed her arm. She licked her lips. "Did you get rid of the battery thing?"

"Funny story, that. Initiative got the electric up an' runnin', tried to arrest us all. Had Harris locked away already."

"Didn't our spell kill all The Initiative machines, though?"

"Nah. Buggered up all the files and data stuff, though. Wiped, completely. Uh, then Rupes made one call to The Wanker's Council and the government types not only released us all, they were convinced to let the witchy types get rid of Adam's battery with magics. And to put you up here at the government's expense with the best possible care. Since you saved their sorry arses and all."

Buffy blinked, trying to process it all. Her friends were safe and the world wasn't ending outside, so she was just accepting it as a win for the moment and moving on. "Spike, were you singing?"

Spike looked to the floor, rubbing a hand on the back of his head. "Here and there, yeah. To pass the time. Help your mum not to worry as much."

Buffy yawned, her throat scratchy. "I think I heard you."

Something sweet and gentle flickered in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"In the middle of crazy Slayer dream crap, yeah."

"We'll worry 'bout that later, a'right? Right now, we're gettin' you home, your mum's cookin' you somethin' nice, we'll get your friends to come with some movies or somethin' so you can relax. I may even make a run for some chocolate ice cream."

"Yeah?" Buffy lit up.

"If you're nice." Spike winked.

"Oh, well, guess I should give up on that dream now, then." The pair of them laughed. Buffy shifted, annoyed that she couldn't get comfortable. "Spike, there was something... Okay, there's a lot I've got questions about, but one thing kept coming up. Everyone kept saying _she's_ coming. Do you know what that means?"

Spike took a deep breath, glancing at the ceiling. "I could guess. You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Slayer. It'll be any day now, though, if I've played my cards right. I'll tell you when it happens."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I should've just slept another couple of days, then. Well, if I could have normal ice skating dreams, or picnic in the park dreams, or sexy Spike dreams or something."

Spike rested his forehead against Buffy's, brushing his fingers over hers. "God, I've missed you, Buffy."

xxxxx

"Giles promised no slayer talk for a full two weeks."

"Yeah, believe that when I see it," Spike muttered. Buffy was leading him upstairs by the hand. "Gives you, what? Another week of bein' a real girl?"

"Eight whole days!" she gloated, swinging her hips a little as she did.

Spike sighed. Every time she did somethin' that Buffy-like, he was grateful. He'd spent all those days in her hospital room convinced he'd made the wrong move somewhere and gotten his Slayer killed. He'd 've let Joyce stake him where he sat if that happened. "So what? Nibbles and crappy ice ponce movies?"

"Hey!" Buffy slapped him playfully on the shoulder as they paused outside of her room.

The door was closed. That was odd. Spike could've sworn they'd left it open when they went down to breakfast. Joyce was more than happy to have Spike staying around the house to help take care of Buffy, and to keep her in top bubbly valley girl form. The lady had never once complained that he'd taken up residence in Buffy's room during her recovery.

"And no," Buffy said. "He wants to do the big Thanksgiving-style dinner. He's making mushy peas."

"Mushy peas're amazin'."

Buffy glanced at him sidelong. "William the Bloody thinks mushy peas are... 'amazing'?"

"Shut up, Summers."

"Ooh, I'm putting up a poster at Willy's. 'Attention All Demons: Spike Likes Mushy Peas.'"

"Oi! Don't take advantage of the fact that you're a wounded little lamb."

"What're you gonna do, Big Bad?" Buffy stuck her chin out defiantly.

Spike gently backed her toward the door, holding her hips to keep her there. "Bad, evil things." He slid his hands up her tank top, holding onto her waist to avoid the still-bandaged wound between her hip and ribcage. He leaned in, kissing her, only just teasing her tongue with his.

"Hey." She held her hand on his shoulder and Spike pulled back immediately.

"Sorry. I hurt you?"

"No, no. Um." Buffy tucked some hair behind her ear. "I was wondering, now that we're going to have a quiet summer, if maybe we wanted to talk about us? Like, where we're going?"

"Can take some night trips to the beach, pet, but anything we need the DeSoto for we'll need to book a place to stay." Spike stopped breathing. This sounded serious, but sometimes his Slayer made mountains outta molehills. Couldn't be she wanted to kick him to the curb, right? Not after all this. He couldn't bear it.

"No, not—Although, that's an idea."

"Focus?"

"Right. Right. I was thinking..." Buffy took his left hand, running her thumb over his garnet ring. "I was thinking we could talk about future plans. I, for instance, have nowhere to live next semester, what with the witchy love nest Wills and Tara have going on."

Spike nodded and opened his mouth to speak. The door behind Buffy opened. Spike shifted as quick as he could so he'd fall to the floor next to her instead of on top of her. Buffy cried out when she hit the floor anyway, holding onto her stomach.

"Bleedin' buggerin'..." Spike reached over, lifting her shirt to check the bandage. A little blood was seeping through.

Buffy was suddenly distracted by something above them, her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"

Spike followed her gaze. Standing above them with the patented Summers annoyed-expression-and-arms-crossed-over-chest...

Spike sighed. "Hey, Lil' Bit."

 **Here endeth the story... for now.**

 _This is planned as Part 1 in (what I hope will be) a trilogy. I'm going to need to take a few months off to dedicate some time to other stuff, but also to get a good backlog of chapters for Part 2 going. I'd like to do the "chapter a day" release schedule again, but it was really only possible because I was about 20 chapters ahead when I started posting "Make the Clock Reverse."_

 _In the meantime, please let me know what you thought about the ending and the story in general._

 _I also ask for two things:_

 _1\. Your favorite parts of this story. What you really liked (scenes, lines, character moments, whatever) will help me do that again next time._

 _2\. Your favorite parts of the canon season 5 of Buffy._

 _Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you back here for Part 2! Keep an eye out. :)_

 _P.S. If you liked this and wanted to nominate it for anything over at The Sunnydale Memorial Awards, I certainly wouldn't complain. ;)_

 _P.P.S. Love you guys! You're the best. This has been an amazing experience, both the writing and the sharing of my first ever fanfiction story. A lot of that is thanks to you._


End file.
